Harry Potter and the Wolf of the Eighth Floor
by Minas Morgul
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his sixth year, not knowing what hazardous attacks lie ahead in store for him. As he and his best friends, Ron and Hermione, journey through this ominous year, a myriad of surprises are conjured up for them to witness.
1. Changes and Thoughts

Harry Potter has finally reached his sixteenth birthday on a gloomy night... During the last two months, he grew up to be a fine, tall, handsome, good looking boy. He's no longer that short skinny boy. Still, his scar didn't change, nor did his untidy jet black hair, nor did his glasses.

He spent most of his days alone in his room, thinking of last year. Why did he have to lose his Godfather? He was the only thing closer to a father after his parents. For hours, Harry lay on his bed, mourning his awful luck. Simultaneously, he felt sharp stinging spasms in his scar. Voldemort, presumably, was very happy or angry at something. But Harry didn't care anymore…he wanted this war to end.

Also, obediently, Harry kept on writing letters to the Order, informing them about his stable fair life with the Dursleys. He missed Ron and Hermione too, but knew that he couldn't visit them. Throughout their letters to him, he learned that the Burrow was being destroyed. Mr. Weasley had recently won a prize of three hundred thousand galleons, and planned on spending that entire amount on building a new cozy home. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was under more construction and maintenance. Hermione, on the other hand, was on a vacation with her family and relatives in Italy.

Harry was desperately writing his essay that was assigned to him by Professor Snape at the end of his fifth year. Professor Snape wanted this as a fair retribution for Harry's actions at the end of last year. He has secretively pulled him into a corner during the Leaving Feast, and asked him to write the essay about The Bloody Cloud Potion and its characteristics. It had to be no less than six rolls of parchment long. Harry's fingers were getting numb. Until...

Three small owls came bursting into his bedroom through the opened window. Harry jumped up and almost hit the ceiling with his head. Of course, Harry recognized those owls. One was Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl. The other was Sweetums, Hermione's owl. She had the owl as a gift from her mother. Mrs. Granger thought of rewarding her daughter in summer for her previous excellence in helping out her muggle friends in exhausting exam reviews. The last was a brown school owl that Harry was sure he saw sometime in the Owlery.

Pigwidgeon carried two presents for Harry that were sent by the Weasleys. One was a Weasley Jumper Mrs. Weasley knitted for Harry. It had the shape of a green lightning bolt on it with the letter H. The other was an old chessboard from Ron.

Sweetums carried two presents also from Hermione. The first was a heavy book about famous witches and wizards that were fantastic in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The second was a photo album that contained lots and lots of pictures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione in their adventures for the past five years at Hogwarts. That photo album was so perfectly designed.

The school owl had two letters tied to its left leg, and a long wrapped present tied to its right leg. Harry took the first letter and read it. As always, it was from Professor McGonagall explaining that the school years will begin on September first, and it had the list of books needed for sixth year.  
The other letter had even better news. It was from Dumbledore, explaining that it was time to change the rule about the Decree for Restriction of Underage Wizardry. Now, thirteen year olds and above are allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts. Even younger people are allowed to do magic only in life threatening situations. Cool---Harry thought.

The present that Harry received was also sent by Dumbledore. It was even more exciting. When Harry unwrapped it, he saw a precious, gold, orange, and shining broomstick lying on his bed. It was the new Firebolt X6! It came out in the shops of Diagon Alley just two months ago. But, why would Dumbledore send Harry another broomstick when he knew he had a decent international broom? Dumbledore always had his reasons. Well, now that he was allowed to use magic, he took out his wand, pointed it at his closet, and muttered Alohomora. The doors were opened at once. After that, he said Wingardium Leviosa, and levitated the presents so that they would be placed safely in the closet. Suddenly...

"Harry Potter!" roared a voice from downstairs. "Come now, supper is ready, and you know Dudley, he'll eat everything before you even know it." That was the unmistaken sound of Uncle Vernon. Yes, the Dursleys have improved their behavior and started to treat Harry nicely ever since Mad Eye and Lupin threatened his uncle to turn his life into hell if they ever hear that Harry is having a bad time with the Dursleys.

"Coming!" shouted back Harry. He grabbed his wand, stuck it in his jeans, and went downstairs to eat. Aunt Petunia was putting the roast beef on the dining table. Dudley was chewing on his chicken tenders. Uncle Vernon was pouring juice into his glass.

Everything went quite ok during supper, except for maybe one thing. Dudley choked on his chicken tender, and fainted. Harry then was proud to use magic. He used his wand to say Enervate so that Dudley could regain consciousness. Uncle Vernon and his wife thanked Harry for saving their son's life, but still, they wondered why Harry wasn't afraid of being expelled. He, of course, explained to them how the rules have changed, and how he now was allowed to do magic.

After supper, Harry dashed upstairs to sleep. He was completely exhausted and drowsy. Not one second passed after Harry pushed the door open, and...  
He saw a short man, dressed in a torn grey cloak, standing by the closet. It was Professor Lupin!  
"Professor, sir---I---don't understand----how did---how did you --- what are you doing?---Professor, I----I---Oh, it's so great to see you!" Harry rushed towards Lupin and hugged him.  
"There there Harry, I expected you to ask these questions. I'm here on Dumbledore's orders, Harry. He recommended that Mad Eye or I should visit you every now and then to check on you and your condition with the muggles. Speaking of the muggles, I see they've improved a lot, ever since Mad Eye and I gave your uncle a fright at Kings Cross Station last June!"  
"Dumbledore sent you here? He said this?" asked Harry, bewildered.


	2. Werewolf Talk

"Yep. He's the one who sent me here," answered Lupin.  
"Why did he do that for?" asked Harry again.  
"The first question you need to ask is what is happening ," replied Lupin.  
"What?---Oh--ok--what's happening?"  
"Remember last year when you and the other kids saw Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries? Well, after that, he of course escaped again. Voldemort has already sent his death eaters all over London looking for you. They actually don't know where you live. He told them to ask everywhere they go. He doesn't care what happens to the poor innocent muggles, he doesn't care if they die. He's got to catch you, Harry. So, his death eaters obeyed him of course and are now swarming all around England. Quite a few of them have the idea that you might be living in Ireland, but they are wrong. As long as Mad Eye and I come to visit you every now and then, you'll be perfectly safe. But still, Harry, we can't be so sure. So, I've brought this to give to you." He gave Harry a dull black sword that was at least two and a half feet tall.  
"What's this for?" queried Harry.  
" Always keep this sword with you Harry, along with your wand. Never go anywhere without it."  
" But, what does it do?"  
"This sword is supposed to shine yellow whenever danger is around you Harry. You can also use it to kill your enemies. Just one good stroke across the centre of the neck, and your enemy will be dead in no time. Only..." stopped Lupin.  
"Only what?"  
"That one good stroke is not enough Harry. You have to add in your strongest feelings with the hit and believe in yourself. Trust yourself, and you'll succeed. Just as you did with the Patronus charm in your third year."  
"So, what about Voldemort? Why is he still after me? I thought he won't dare come near me after he met Dumbledore? I thought Dumbledore was the only man he was ever scared of," said Harry.  
"Harry, when are you ever going to understand? Voldemort will never stop chasing after you until you're surely dead. Haven't you seen enough? You saved the Philosopher's Stone, and yet, he returned in your second year as the memory preserved in the Diary and lured you down into the Chamber of Secrets. Still, he came back again in your fourth year. You saw him gain a body of his own. He could've succeeded you know. He almost killed you with the Avada Kedavra curse, had not Priori Incantatem took place. Again, you saw him in the department of mysteries last year. He nearly killed you again, had not Dumbledore show up at last. Voldemort was very disappointed that day, when the prophecy was smashed. He could've destroyed it, you know. But, like always Harry, you left him no chance, and you were always good at escaping from trouble. But, even now, Voldemort is still after you, Harry. I'm telling you, he'll never rest until he kills you personally. I guess we have nothing to do, but wait and see what fait hides for us."  
"Well, let his fellow Death Eaters come. I'll get rid of them if it's the last thing I do in my life. I'll never rest too, until he's gone for sure. Last year, when Dumbledore sat with me in his office, he explained that one of us is going to die in the end. I'll wait and see, if it's me who's going to die, then I'll make sure I get rid of that nightmare before I'm gone."  
"Harry, don't think like that. You'll be safe. You've got all the members of the Order on your side,"  
"The Order? You mean the Order of the Phoenix? It still exists?" asked Harry.  
"Well of course it still exists my dear boy. Isn't it our responsibility to decrease the number of death-eaters in the magical world as much as we can? Isn't it our job to make sure you're safe?"  
"Sorry, didn't---didn't quite think that the order---still--existed after what happened---I thought they've been terrified that---that---they couldn't risk their own lives---for my safety"  
"Oh it's ok Harry. The members of the Order are ready to die instead of leaving you without protection. Oh, is that the time? Blimey, I need to get back to Grimmauld Place, you know, our headquarters. It's been a pleasure meeting you Harry again, I'll come by anytime next week, or perhaps, Mad Eye will. Well then, goodbye" and with a small pop, Lupin disappeared in the thin air.  
Harry has never had a night like this before. He had someone Apparate in Privet Drive before, like Dobby, and Mundungus Fletcher, but never a teacher before. Still, Harry has been pleased to talk to Professor Lupin again. He felt lonely for two months now, even though the Dursleys were acting better than ever. Harry turned off the lamps, and headed straight to bed. He was now extremely tired, even though he had several minutes of joy talking to Lupin. He took off his glasses, and put them on the table next to his head. Harry closed his eyes, and immediately fell asleep.


	3. Amusement with Dudley

The sun rays were moving the curtains in Harry's bedroom like a ghost breaking in. Until at last, they've reached his face and tickled it. Harry woke up with a loud yawn and picked up his glasses. He went outside of his room, heading directly to the bathroom. Harry, of course, washed his teeth and face. He looked into the mirror. There was still sign of sleep in his eyes; probably because he had an exciting night, he couldn't have forgotten about it.  
When Harry finished from the bathroom, his legs moved him to the room that was directly opposite to the bathroom, Dudley's room. He didn't have to knock on the door, because he knew that a hundred trumpets and drums wouldn't wake up Dudley that easy! He crept in slowly, and went to Dudley's bed. Dudley was always a complete mess. His head was on the end of the bed, and his feet were on the pillow, actually, one leg on the pillow and the other on the floor. He was snoring like a maniac, and boy he had a horrible breath.  
"Dudley, Dudley get up, it's nine fifteen already," said Harry. He tickled Dudley right underneath his chin, which of course, caused Dudley to laugh and beg Harry to stop it at once. Finally, after ten minutes of tickling, Dudley got out of his bed, lazily.  
"Hurry up boys!" cried Aunt Petunia from downstairs. "Breakfast is ready!"  
Immediately, Harry ran down the stairs rushing to sit on the chair. He was starving! On the table were five oranges, six toasts, two plates of scrambled eggs, four mugs, and honey. Harry couldn't have resisted his hunger. So, he helped himself to two oranges, one toast, and half a plate of scrambled eggs.  
"Slow down kid, or you'll have your stomach exploding!" proclaimed Uncle Vernon. But Harry ignored him and continued to eat. Until Dudley came at last  
"Dad," he began," where's my wallet?" Harry didn't care, he continued to eat.  
"I thought I gave it back to you, Big D, haven't I Petunia?"  
"Of course you did, I saw you with my own eyes giving it to him two days ago."  
"The problem is, I can't find it anywhere"  
"Maybe," started Harry, "you lost it somewhere underneath your bed sheet. I thought I saw something brown when I woke you up today."  
"Yeah, yeah I remember now. I kept it under my bed sheet so that I keep counting how much money I get from gambling with my friends, OH NO!" At those words, Aunt Petunia Uncle Vernon both choked.  
"YOU WHAT!" screamed Aunt Petunia furiously.  
"Sorry mum, sorry I didn't tell you," said Dudley in a shaky voice.  
"How could it be? My own Popkins gambling!"  
"My friends got be into this habit. Actually, it's good. I keep gaining money."  
"YOU MORON! DUDLEY, I'M ABSOLUTLEY DISGUSTED WITH YOUR BEHAVIOR! GAMBLING CAN MAKE YOU LOSE ALL THE MONEY YOU'VE GOT! AND HOW MUCH MONEY HAVE WE GOT? LESS THAN YOU CAN THINK OF!" shouted Uncle Vernon angrily.  
"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, calm down, I'm perfectly sure that Dudley is never going to gamble again, because he knows it's not good for him, right Dud?" said Harry.  
"Y--Yeah--right," answered Dudley in a kind of frightened voice.  
"Mum, Dad, I forgot to tell you. Today's my boxing tournament; I've been training for over two months now for this. The tournament begins on four p.m."  
"Well allright, just promise me that you'll never go gambling again," said Uncle Vernon.  
"Cross my heart, and hope to die,"  
Hours and hours passed by, with nothing happening. Until at last, it was three fifteen...  
"Dudley, Harry, come on now, we've got to get going, that tournament is 16 KL away from here, and now come on, get yourself dressed up," said Aunt Petunia.  
Harry has already put on his T-shirt and jeans, and of course remembered to take his wand and sword with him, just in case anything funny happened.  
The car trip was just fine, until Uncle Vernon stopped at the traffic lights, which was a total chaos. People were screaming at each other, horns were being pushed in every car, and much worse than that, the traffic lights were out of order...  
"DAMN YOU TRAFFIC LIGHTS! I'VE ALWAYS SAID THAT OUR GOVERMENT IS GOING DOWN! YOU CAN'T EVEN FIX A TRAFFIC LIGHT, PEOPLE!" roared Uncle Vernon.  
At last, they've managed to arrive at the theater where Dudley's tournament took place. After they entered, a security guard showed them their seats, which were on the tenth row. The bell has rung, and the games began. Harry has never seen such gruesome attacks; players were hitting each other like they would hit a concrete wall. Many of them have earned knockdown points, which caused them to move upwards in the competition. Then, at last, the commentator spoke:  
"Next fight, Dudley Dursley versus John Markson, will the players please come to the fighting area,"  
"Go Big D, give him the old one-two, eh? You can do it!" said Uncle Vernon. Anyway, when the fight began, Harry was beginning to see Dudley's punches and hits. They were truly painful, but Harry noticed something else. Dudley's opponent was very fast. He always moved around Dudley to make him look around, and all of a sudden, Dudley gets hit on the nose. Again and again, Dudley continued to be hit. Harry felt a bit of guilt in his heart. Now that he's allowed to use magic, why wouldn't he try to help Dudley?  
Slowly and carefully, Harry took out his wand, but still, it was hidden between his jeans and jacket. He made sure no one was looking. Within seconds, he pointed his wand at the other boy's punch that was barley starting to move, and whispered Impedimenta. He used this jinx to slow down that punch. After that, Dudley had his chance, he sort of pushed the boy's hand upwards, and gave him a super-powerful punch right on the centre of his stomach. Immediately, the boy fell to the ground. That gained Dudley full points, and made him win the match. Everyone in the theater was now clapping so loud. Even Harry did, although he knew that if it hadn't been for him, Dudley would now probably be the loser.  
"THAT'S MY BOY!" shouted Uncle Vernon, the whole crowd heard him. Several minutes later, Dudley came out of the changing room, and went straight to his parents and Harry.  
" Well done, Big D, I knew you would win the match," said Harry in a cheering voice.  
The tournament ended afterwards, and Dudley won the first place for the heavyweight. He raised his hands high up in the air, and waved at everyone. He was holding a trophy and a bunch of flowers. The trophy had some writing on it that Harry saw: Boxing Tournament, First Place, Heavyweight, Dudley Dursley.  
Harry and the Dursleys then went back to their car and quickly returned home. They wanted to celebrate Dudley's victory. The clumsy fat pig---Harry thought, and quickly grinned. Aunt Petunia has made a cake and put on it a picture of Dudley when he was seven, she also made some banana splits, and apple pies, just to celebrate the fat pig's victory---Harry thought.  
Harry then climbed up the stairs and went directly to his room. Again, like last night, he was feeling dizzy. He found Hedwig in her cage hooting at him as he entered the room.   
"What a night!"


	4. Subsequent to the Celebration

Harry woke up next morning to find three letters lying on the floor beside his bed. He grabbed his glasses, put them on, and held the letters to read them. They were from the Weasleys and Hermione. One letter from Hermione said that she visited a wizarding museum and had fun. She was going to come home in two days. Another was from Mrs. Weasley inviting Harry to come and stay with them. Only Harry didn't stand the horrible shrieks of Mrs. Black. The last one was from Ron, saying that he, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny are going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get the new books. So, that's why they invited Harry, so that he could go with them. Quickly, Harry got a piece of parchment and his quill and began to write:

_Dear Weasleys and Hermione,  
Thank you for your kind invitation. I would simply love to join you and go shopping in Diagon Alley. Hey, I've got good news. The Dursleys totally changed this summer, ever since Mad Eye and Lupin threatened Uncle Vernon at Kings Cross. Ever since that moment, they started treating me like I was a second Dudley or something like that. They look like they'd been under the Imperius curse, actually. Yeah, about going with you, just as I said, it's my pleasure. Just send me an owl, telling me when you're going to Diagon Alley, and whether it's my job to come to you at Kings Cross, or you come and take me._

Sincerely,  
Harry  
  
As soon as he finished writing, he put the letter in a parcel, and tied it to Hedwig's leg. She set off to travel to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Harry got out of bed, and went for breakfast. The dining table was a complete mess from yesterday. Cherries were all over the floor, chocolate of the cake was on the chairs, soda was dripping from the edge of the table... Luckily, from the deep part of Harry's white heart, he cleaned that mess. Of course, he used magic to save time. It would take him a whole hour just to scrub the floor and wash the table. He took out his wand, pointed it at the whole table, and said "Scourgify". In seconds, the table was totally sparkling! Harry then went to the kitchen to help Aunt Petunia prepare breakfast. He was surprised to see no one there. That's weird---Harry thought. Aunt Petunia usually woke up very early, to clean the living room, and prepare breakfast as she normally did. Maybe she was ill----Harry thought. Well, he had to at least do something that could impress his aunt. So he decided to cook breakfast himself. He opened the fridge, took out 1 egg, and boiled it. He also took out some juice and poured into a silver goblet. Harry waited for the egg to boil, it took the egg fifteen minutes to do so. Finally, Harry took the egg and juice, put them on a tray, and went to the dining table. He began eating right away, when...  
"Harry?" came the voice of Aunt Petunia.  
"Good morning Aunt Petunia, I thought you were sick, so don't worry, I cooked breakfast myself, you see," said Harry.  
"Sick? Don't be ridiculous! You could've simply woken me up!"  
"What happened anyway? Usually, you're the first one to wake up in this house," said Harry, waiting for an answer.  
"I decided that I should get some more sleep, I was tired after yesterday celebrating. Wait a moment, where's all the cherry from last night? The chocolate? The soda? The---"  
"Don't worry, I've cleaned it all, "  
"You, you cleaned that mess?"  
"Yeah, I thought of helping,"  
"Well, thank you so much Harry,"  
"Don't mention it,"  
Moments of silence passed, until Harry spoke again...  
"Aunt Petunia, I forgot to mention this to you yesterday. I had three letters from my friends at school saying that they would be pleased to have me join them at their house for the last couple of days before we begin term. Not to mention that we need to go get our school supplies form some---well---some---I can't describe it---but its name is Diagon Alley,"  
"Digo-what?"  
"I know, it seems odd to you, but please, can I go?"  
He waited for a response. He thought that his aunt would simply refuse to let him go, and demand that he stays till the first of September. However, a smile showed on Aunt Petunia's face...  
"Of course you can go, Harry, and have a good year,"  
"Thanks!" responded Harry happily. Still, he didn't receive an owl from the Weasleys and Hermione. So, he wasn't quite sure how he will be going to them. When moments later, the doorbell rang.  
"Don't worry Harry, I'll get it," said Aunt Petunia quickly. She headed straight to the door and opened it.  
"Ah---hello there, Mrs. Dursley--um---well---um---I'm here to pick up Harry so that we can go back to---well--our home, I'm sure Harry has told you all about that, didn't he?"  
Harry moved closer to the door, and tried to spot who it was speaking to his aunt. He caught sight of a short, red haired woman, wearing a green-brown coat, and a fluffy black hat on her head. It was Mrs. Weasley!  
"Mrs. Weasley!" shouted Harry happily. " I've been waiting for an owl but nothing came."  
"Harry dear, how wonderful to see you," replied Mrs. Weasley.  
"You know this lady, Harry?" asked Aunt Petunia.  
"Of course I do, she's my friend's mom," answered Harry enthusiastically. "Come in Mrs. Weasley, have a pot of tea."  
"Well thank you, my dear boy," said Mrs. Weasley with a wide smile wiping her face.  
Harry rushed to the kitchen and brought some tea. He gave it politely to Mrs. Weasley and asked her if she wanted anymore sugar.  
"So, how are you Harry, had a good summer?" began Mrs. Weasley.  
"Oh yeah, you see here, my aunt, uncle, and cousin were being totally nice to me," said Harry, and Aunt Petunia raised her head and smiled.  
"Be as it is, so how are you Mrs. Dursley? Find young Harry amusing?"  
"Well, he's such a good boy, he's been offering to help me with cooking ever since the middle of June. You see, this morning, I dozed off a bit, and Harry helped clean a big mess that occurred from yesterday's celebration,"  
"Celebration?" asked Mrs. Weasley.   
"We all celebrated my son, Dudley's victory in a boxing tournament."  
"Of course, Harry has always been such a nice boy, you should come and listen to his past in Hogwarts, school..." began Mrs. Weasley.  
"I wish to get to know more about that school later on," said Aunt Petunia.  
"Well, Harry dear," started Mrs. Weasley, "you should be getting your trunk. I expect we will be leaving soon."  
"Right away!" Harry then headed to his room, gathered all his stuff, and put it in his trunk. He was sure that Hedwig's cage was perfectly locked, and went downstairs. This is heavy---thought Harry. He took out his wand, pointed it at his school trunk, and said Locomoter Trunk. The trunk followed him all the way downstairs. He then went straight to Aunt Petunia, hugged her, and said goodbye. He and Mrs. Weasley were already out the house, putting Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage in a car.  
"Mrs. Weasley, sorry, but, how are we going to get to Diagon Alley?"  
"Not to worry, Harry dear. I'll drive us to The Leaky Cauldron in London, and then you know that secret passageway built in the red brick wall, all you have to do is tap it with your wand several places several times, and Diagon Alley will be in front of you in no time. Oh, and don't worry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny will be waiting for you there at Flourish and Blotts." answered Mrs. Weasley.  
Several minutes passed, until at last, they reached The Leaky Cauldron. Harry stepped out of the car, and took out his trunk, and Hedwig. He was all ready now to enter Diagon Alley, of course after he tapped the bricks on the wall with his wand, like Hagrid had shown him before first year.  
"Mrs. Weasley, thank you for the ride," said Harry.  
"Oh it was nothing dear,"  
"Um..do you mind if I ask where you got this car?"  
"Certainly not dear. You know Arthur, with his Muggle obsession. He won fifty thousand galleons in some contest that was held at the Ministry. He then decided to buy us a new useful car, for transport in the muggle world."  
"Oh, cool. Well, bye then," said Harry with a smile.  
"Bye dear, have a good term. And Harry, do be careful, I don't know what will happen this year with the Order, and Dumbledore, but please, be careful."  
"Don't worry, I will be. Well then, bye."  
In an instant, Harry bewitched his trunk and Hedwig's cage so that they can follow him to the entrance of Diagon Alley. He took out his wand, and tapped the bricks on the wall. Slowly, faster, and then even faster, a passageway opened, and Diagon Alley stood there, packed with witches and wizards as always.


	5. Back to Pandemonium

Harry was so pleased to return back to Diagon Alley. He missed the wizarding world. So, he began to walk towards Flourish and Blotts, the bookshop that Mrs. Weasley told him he'll be meeting Hermione, Ron, and Ginny there. All of the sudden, Harry felt something hairy and small brushing against his legs.  
"Crookshanks! I was beginning to wonder where you are!" said Harry with excitement.  
Then, he heard someone call his name. It was Hermione.  
"Harry! It's great to have you back! Ron, Ginny, come on, Harry's arrived!" Hermione ran towards Harry, and hugged him. Harry blushed, she didn't seem to want to let go.  
"Erm...it's great to see you too, Hermione," said Harry, smiling.  
She finally let go of him. Then, Harry caught a glimpse of two red haired people coming his way.  
"Harry mate! So wonderful to see you!" that was Ron.  
"Hello Harry, had a nice summer?" this was Ginny.  
"Hello fellows, I really missed you," replied Harry.  
"Listen, you guys stay here, while I go get the new books ok?" said Harry in a rush.  
"Ok!" replied everyone. So, Harry finally stepped into Flourish and Blotts. It was completely packed with wizards and witches. He politely spoke to the shopkeeper, and told him what books he needed.  
"I need One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi II, See Beyond Your Sight, and the Standard Book of Spells-Grade Six,"  
"Righto," said the man. It took him several minutes to get the books, because they were stored deep inside the store rooms, plus they were heavy, about three hundred pages each.  
"Here you go, kid," said the man, handing the books over to Harry, "yeah, that will be---twelve galleons please." Harry took out some bunch of gold from his pocket and gave them to the man. He put the books in a bag, and headed towards the door. When...  
"Oi, kid, wait a sec, you've got a change of 6 galleons," spoke the man again.  
"Oh, go ahead and keep it," replied Harry quickly, heading towards the door.   
"Why---thank you my dear boy," said the man happily.  
Finally, Harry managed to force his way through the throng and get out to be with his friends again.  
"Sorry, I made you wait for ages," said Harry, trying to catch his breath.  
"Don't mention it, mate," said Ron.  
"It's been our pleasure waiting for you Harry," said Hermione, with a pretty smile on her face. Harry suddenly realized something about his friends. They changed. Ron had less freckles, grew just a bit taller, and had longer hair---a bit like Bill's, to be honest. Ginny grew taller, and had cut her hair. Harry's jaw might have fallen when he noticed Hermione. Though her growth was slight, her hair waves were totally amazing (with a sense of bushiness still around), and she was looking stunningly pretty. Then, Harry saw a black book in her hands, which he hadn't got listed on the list of books that was sent to him by McGonagall.  
"Hermione, what is that?"  
"Oh--this--Force Your Way through Dark Paths, by Wilbert Shanoks, why are you asking Harry?" replied Hermione.  
"It's just that I---this book wasn't included on my list,"  
"No way, McGonagall can't do such a stupid mistake," said Hermione, still looking curious.  
"Yeah, but still, do you think she's made such a mistake?" asked Ginny.   
"No way, she's too smart for that," replied Ron.  
"Anyway, Harry, I think you should go and get the book, just in case it was truly her mistake, you may be needing it at Hogwarts," said Hermione, smiling.  
"Well ok!" said Harry. He, at once, headed back to Flourish and Blotts to procure the book. Five minutes later, he reappeared between his friends.  
"So, you've got it finally," said Ron, relieved, "listen, Harry, would you like us to stay in The Leaky Cauldron for the next three days? I'm absolutely disgusted to go back to Grimmauld Place, Mrs. Black has gotten even worse,"  
"Sssssssh, Ron, keep your voice down," said Ginny quietly.  
"That seems ok to me," replied Harry grinning, "that's if Hermione and Ginny have no problem."  
"Us? No, it's perfectly fine with us." replied Hermione.  
"Fine, at last. You're life savers you three," said Ron, relaxed, "I'll write to Mom tonight to tell her about staying here."  
"Well then, shouldn't we be going to reserve a room?" asked Ginny.  
"Ginny, shut it!" shouted Ron angrily. "I see your behaviour hasn't improved yet. Harry has just arrived after being stuck with the Dursleys for two months, he missed the magical world, would you mind some respect?" Ron's ears were getting redder as he spoke louder.  
"Don't lose you temper Ron," said Harry trying to calm him down, "besides, Ginny's right, we need to go and reserve a room."  
The four just moved to get to The Leaky Cauldron, when suddenly...  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! POISNOUS TOADS AND TENTACULAS ESCAPED FROM KNOCTURN ALLEY HEADING THIS WAY, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!" screamed a frightened young boy.  
"What the----" began Ron.  
They turned around, and saw some things coming nearer and nearer. There were about a hundred Tentaculas and poisonous toads jumping on the right side and left side of Diagon Alley. Customers were running out of the shops, screaming, yelling, shouting, panicking...even adult wizards and witches!  
"Come on, we've got to do something," said Harry, uneasily.  
"Ok, Harry, you go to that side and try to stun most of the toads, I'll go this was, to stun the Tentaculas," said Hermione in a hurry.  
"And us?" asked Ron.  
"You just stay here, and try to help those people escape," answered Harry quickly. Finally, after twenty minutes of stunning, Harry and Hermione came back to Ron and Ginny. The stunning task was so wearisome to them.   
"That should've taken care of them," said Harry, looking pale.  
"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Hermione, catching her breath.  
"Besides, who's the moron who set those creatures loose?" said Ron, looking rather angry.  
"I don't know," answered Harry. "Perhaps an idiot."  
After that incident, the four went to The Leaky Cauldron Motel to reserve a room.  
"One room please, for four people," said Harry to the motel manager, pointing at the three friends.  
"Would it by fine to take a room on the second floor? The first floor is full!" mentioned the man.  
"Yeah, anywhere would be ok, we just need to rest as soon as possible," answered Harry, he was tired. So, they followed the man to their rooms and entered. Harry was still at the door paying the man for the three nights, plus a tip. He then slammed the door shut, and found himself lying on the cushion.  
"Should we get on with putting our things in the closets and cupboards?" asked Ginny.  
"I guess you're right," said Hermione. Eventually, the four managed to put their stuff into their places, using magic of course to save time. Hermione and Ginny went straight to bed. However, Ron and Harry were still awake. Ron was writing the letter to his mother; he finished writing, tied the letter to Pigwidgeon's leg, and told him to fly away. Harry, on the other hand, was reading the Daily Prophet, just in case he found something interesting. Indeed, he did...  
"Hey Ron! Look at this!" said Harry, amazed. "Listen, the majority of wizards and witches in the Ministry of Magic, has agreed that it was time for Cornelius Fudge to step aside from his position, having caused such trouble to the students of Hogwarts: passing on dreadful educational decrees, sending Professor Umbridge to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, which caused great misery to the students, and much more. Therefore, the majority of the Ministry of Magic people have selected a new Minister to be more caring for Hogwarts rather than destroying it, and the person was none other than Hogwarts' headmaster himself, Albus Dumbledore. Of course, Dumbledore has sportingly agreed to take Fudge's place."  
"Wow! I'm telling you, this is great news! With Dumbledore in charge of both Hogwarts and the Ministry, things are going to change a lot from last year!" said Ron, filled with happiness.  
"Yeah, but still, that can't protect us, can it? I mean, Voldemort's death eaters--OH RON, GET A GRIP, YOU SHOULD START USING HIS NAME--began to spread all over the place, maybe even to destroy Hogwarts, not just to find me,"  
"Spooky!" said Ron, swallowing a lump in his throat.  
"Ron, during this summer, have you seen a lot of the members of the Order?" asked Harry.  
"Quite a few, we saw McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, and Mad Eye, but we didn't see Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, or the others. I wonder where they are now," replied Ron.  
A few seconds later, Harry and Ron both headed to their beds. Harry was yawning, so desperate to have some rest, after a long, exciting, thrilling, and an eventful day. He took off his glasses, climbed into the bed, and reclined. At first, he didn't much seem to have the ability to sleep, but then, slowly, his eyes began to hurt. He closed his eyes, and went straight to sleep. Harry couldn't stop thinking about how close September First was, how he finally joined his friends, how he was going back to Hogwarts in a few days.


	6. Giant Trouble

Three days have finally passed with Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny staying in a room in The Leaky Cauldron Motel. They enjoyed their time their. Harry was trying to remember his moves on the broomstick for Quidditch. Ron was experimenting with one of the Extendable Ears that were accidentally left over by Fred and George last year. Ginny was playing hide and seek with Crookshanks. Hermione was reading her new school books, to take a background of what they'll be studying. Finally, it was September first, nine o'clock.  
"Come on guys, you should be packing up, we've only got two hours till the train leaves," said Hermione, packing her stuff and putting it in her trunk.  
"Hermione, don't worry, we'll be there on time," said Harry.  
"Always put the worst in front of you, what if we were late to the train? What will we do next? Fly a car?" asked Hermione.  
"Well, you worry too much, really, Hermione, there is time," said Ron slowly.  
"Fine, just please don't be late, I can't wait to get back to school," said Hermione, excited.  
"Sure you don't," murmured Ron quietly when Hermione wasn't listening. Time has passed, and it was finally twenty past ten.  
"Ok, everybody ready?" asked Harry.  
"Yes," answered Ginny.  
"Everybody's pets are ready?" asked Hermione.  
"Oh yeah, Hedwig's in her cage, so is Pigwidgeon, how about Crookshanks?" replied Harry.  
"Crookshanks is also ready, he's probably searching my trunk for some thread,"  
"Thread? For what?" asked Harry.  
"For S.P.E.W. of course,"  
"What? You still haven't given up that?" asked Ron, annoyed.  
"No I've not. I'm not resting until those elves get their rights,"  
"Hermione, how many times do we have to tell you? They like it the way they are!" answered Ron.  
"No they don't," said Hermione angrily.  
"Yes they do," said Ron.  
"Guys, don't start an argument. Please, just get ready to leave," said Harry calmly.  
Finally, the four friends got out of their room, out of The Leaky Cauldron Motel, out of Diagon Alley, and headed to Kings Cross station. Mrs. Weasley was waiting by the door of The Leaky Cauldron, so, she was the one to drop the off at Kings Cross Station. Of course, she drove their. Everybody got out of the car, grabbed their trunks, and walked to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Mrs. Weasley waved goodbye and told them to take care and not do anything foolish at school. Harry and Hermione were the first to enter the platform. Then came Ron and Ginny. The Hogwarts Express stood there, shining bright red, with smoke coming out. The friends put their trunks and pets in the back carriage on the Hogwarts Express, and stepped into the train.  
"Shall we find a compartment then?" asked Harry.  
"Well…," replied Hermione quickly.  
"Um...I'll go sit with my fifth year friends…ok Ron?" interjected Ginny hastily.  
"Ok..that's fine," said Ron. Ginny headed to the back, to sit with her friends.  
"Look, there's an empty one over there," said Harry pointing to the front.

"Harry…Ron and I are supposed to be on Prefect duty," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Give it a rest, Hermione," said Ron, jamming his way through a crowd of second years, "it's too early."

"No it's not," she shot back, almost furiously, "you're a _Prefect_!"

"Back to that, are we now?" asked Harry impatiently.

"Harry, he's supposed to be responsible…"

"Yeah, yeah…let's go then," said Ron quickly, while Hermione bit her lips in indignation. They stepped into the compartment. Ron was sitting beside the window. Harry and Hermione sat opposite to him. The train began to move, slowly, faster, and then faster. Half an hour passed until Ron spoke.  
"Hey, have you wondered what took him so long?"  
"What took who so long?" asked Harry.  
"The lousy git, Malfoy. He always comes around, with the two blokes, Crabbe and Goyle," replied Ron.  
"Don't be surprised, but he's here Ron," proclaimed Hermione. She was right. In seconds, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle showed up at the compartment's door.  
"Well well well, look who's here, Potty, Weazel, and the mudblood Granger," spoke the cold voice of Draco Malfoy.  
"What do you want? Get out of our compartment!" said Ron loudly, his ears turned red.  
"I see that I've finally touched a nerve," said Malfoy, grinning. "Our compartment? Remind me Weasley, when did your family have enough money to build this train and own it?"  
"Think you're funny, do you?" said Harry, his temper almost reaching the surface.  
"Hey, Potty! How are you doing?"  
"Better than you," replied Harry.  
"I'll never forgive you for what you did to my father last year. He's probably now planning on how to break out of Azkaban with the others,"  
"Yeah, well, like I told you last year, if he breaks out of Azkaban, I'll be waiting for him,"  
"Sure you will,"  
"Now, if you don't mind, get yourself and those two blokes out of our sight!" spoke Harry.  
"As you wish, master Potter! But, one thing, I promise to give you hell of a life this year, Potty." replied Malfoy, and soon gone.  
"Harry, you should really practice controlling your anger, or you'll get in trouble," said Hermione, with a smile on her face.  
Suddenly, the food cart appeared at the side of the compartment's door. Harry, Hermione, and Ron paid the old lady, and took several Berty Botts Every Flavour Beans, and some chocolate frogs. After eating, the three friends were full and stuffed. Hermione sort of dozed off, and her head was resting on Harry's left shoulder. She felt a bit comfortable.  
"Feeling drowsy already?" said Ron, laughing quietly. Neither Harry nor Hermione spoke for some fleeting seconds.

"I guess she is," Harry finally replied, turning a bit red, and casting some restless looks at the green hills and blue streams that lay on his side of the train.

Suddenly, the train started to slow down. Could we be close to Hogwarts?---thought Harry. But, no way, they've still got one hour of traveling before they reach Hogwarts. They can't be there yet. Then...  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!" came a scream from the back of the train. It was Ginny.  
"What happened?" asked Hermione, yawning.  
"IT'S A GIANT!" screamed Ginny. "I SAW HIS EYES STARING AT ME! HE BROKE THE WINDOW AND WAS REACHING TO GRAB LUNA!"  
Quickly, Harry, Hermione, and Ron left their compartment to head for Ginny's. It was true, there really was a giant outside of the train! He was standing on a river, and his head was above the railway of the train. He was indeed holding Luna Lovegood.  
"HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE, PLEASE HELP, HE'S GOING TO EAT ME!" screamed Luna, horrified.  
Immediately, Ron, Harry, and Hermione took out their wands to stun the giant. It worked, but only for a little time. Luna was released from the giant's hand, and was now falling in the air. She couldn't have been back on the train, had not Ron summoned her in the right time by saying "Accio". But, still, the giant was there. Now, he was moving his hands into the compartment to grab Ron. But, Harry and Hermione did the right thing in time to save Ron. They did the reductor spell; the giant was blasted several meters away and landed on a green hill with a big thud, which almost caused an earthquake. Later on, each muttered a spell to bind the giant in thick ropes.  
"THANKS!" Ron was now hugging both of them. They patted him on the back and then went to the driver to tell him to proceed driving. Then, they returned to their compartment. Everybody was staring at the three, amazed and thrilled.  
"You saved my life, you two, you're bloody brilliant in the dark arts," said Ron, calming down from the giant incident.  
"That's what friends are for," said Harry, smiling at Hermione, she in turn, smiled back.  
"Anyway, isn't this a bit odd? Giants, here? Near Hogwarts? I thought the last bit of them were in the mountains like Hagrid said." said Ron, keen to get to a point.  
"I don't know, that giant must've been an oddball or something," said Hermione.  
"Do you think that---"began Harry, and then came back to a stop.  
"That what Harry?" asked Hermione, looking him in the eye.  
"Maybe Voldemort sent them here. Don't you remember? He said that his Death Eaters were convincing the giants to join him, and soon he'll have the dementors on his side too," said Harry, as usual, ignoring Ron's wince.  
"Anything's possible these days," answered Hermione, looking scared.  
Then, a big old dirty castle came into view. It was Hogwarts. The students will soon start their new school year.


	7. An Extraordinary Surprise

Finally, the Hogwarts Express came to a full stop. Harry, Hermione, and Ron heard the familiar voice of Hagrid calling the first years to show them the way to the boats:  
"Firs' years, firs' years, this way ter the boats, come on now,"  
When they stepped out of the train, they caught a glimpse of Hagrid blinking of them. In seconds, he was gone with the first years. Of course, students were usually put into carriages that were pulled by invisible horse-like creatures to some people called Thestrals. Harry, Hermione, and Ron took the first one. Several minutes passed, and they've at last reached the entrance door. The friends were now heading to the Great Hall, like the rest of the students from Ravenclaw, Huffelpuff, and Slytherin. The three found an empty space on the Gryffindor table, and they sat next to the Creevey brothers and their fellow sixth year, Neville Longbottom. Several minutes passed, when at last every second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year settled down quietly. The first years arrived finally with Professor McGonagall leading the way to the Sorting Hat.  
"When I call your name, you will come to me, sit on the chair, and I shall place the Sorting hat on your head. You shall then be sorted into your houses. After that, kindly join your friends on the four house tables you see," explained McGonagall to the first years.  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron noticed something on the front teachers' table. There was one chair empty. It couldn't have been Hagrid--thought Harry, because he saw him when he first arrived here. It just hit him---there was no present Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Could it possibly be? Dumbledore always found a teacher who would kindly take the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry, Hermione, and Ron where discussing their thoughts about this with Neville, Ginny, and Lavender Brown when the Sorting Hat shouted "Slytherin", and Bella Karlton was sorted into Slytherin. Then, "Gryffindor", and Derrik Shackbol was sorted into his house. "Slytherin", and Tom Vendaruloo was sorted. It took the Sorting Hat at least twenty minutes to sort the first year students. Everybody now was sitting on their table, ready to hear Dumbledore's usual welcome-feast speech.  
"Welcome first years, and welcome back, to our old friends who've we known," began Professor Dumbledore, "First years will please notice that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students, so as a number of things that Mr. Filch, our care taker, has reminded me of for about the five hundredth time. You can check the list of things that aren't allowed on Mr. Filch's office's door."  
Everybody from the second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year were already used to this boring speech. Then, Dumbledore spoke again.  
"I would be most pleased to welcome back our staff from previous years, of course all students from second year and above would recognize them. Yes, I know, you wonder why one chair here is empty, which is the Defense Against the Dark Arts seat. This might be very surprising and strange to you all. But the staff and I have agreed to give the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts to none other than one of you students,"  
Harry was beginning to hear more carefully.  
"The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, will be our young Mr. Harry Potter,"  
Every single face in the Great Hall turned to stare at Harry. He didn't believe it himself at first, he was bewildered by the fact of him becoming a teacher. Impossible---thought Harry. He was still sixteen, and a student at Hogwarts. Was Dumbledore out of his mind? Hermione had her jaw falling. Ron was itching to scream out something, but he remained lost for words.  
"Of course, everything we decide to make has a reason. The reason why Mr. Potter has been selected as a teacher this year is because he is superb and excellent in the Dark Arts, even though his is not a complete expert on it yet. As few of you might have known, last year, Potter and his friends from all houses have been practicing the dark arts illegally in a hidden room. However, this was a great success. All who have been having low grades in this subject have improved surprisingly. Mr. Potter, kindly come to my office after the feast, there are something we must arrange. And now, no further comments please, tuck in, and enjoy the feast,"  
Harry headed back to Gryffindor table, to sit with Hermione and Ron. They were speechless for moments, until at last, Hermione spoke:  
"Harry… you've been made a teacher, I don't believe it! What's Dumbledore playing at?"  
"Bloody hell, Harry! This is stunning," said Ron, with his face beaming at Harry's.  
Harry was completely lost and confused in the time. Of all people, why had he selected me as a teacher? Harry thought to himself.  
Harry should've been at his chair beside the other teachers, but he preferred joining his friends. Of course, Dumbledore didn't mind that. At last, the feast ended, and everyone was getting out of their seats. Prefects were told their passwords from the Head Boy and Head Girl, and now were leading the first years to the staircases and dormitories. For a short minute, Harry forgot about going to Dumbledore's office, and went to join his friends, when Hermione reminded him to go. He was now heading to the headmaster's office. When he arrived, he stood in front of the gargoyle, quiet. He didn't know the password. What was he going to do? Sit there all night and wait for Dumbledore to come out? Of course not. Suddenly, Harry heard footsteps behind him coming closer. It was Professor McGonagall.  
"Hello Potter, congratulations for being the Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, and now, yes the password," said Professor McGonagall quickly," Chocolate Frog!"  
At once, the gargoyle cam to life, and spun, McGonagall and Harry were stepping on the stairs to reach the headmaster's office.  
"Hello Harry, please sit down," said Dumbledore. Harry was still confused.  
"Harry, I presume that you may have heard me explain the reasons that caused me to select you as a teacher?"  
"Yes sir, "replied Harry, with sweat covering his face.  
"And now, we have a few things to discuss. Have you ever wondered why Professor McGonagall didn't include Force Your Way Through Dark Paths? Of course you did. It was because we were to give you the book when you arrived here, in order to start teaching,"  
"But, I got it, Hermione told me to buy it, just in case I needed it," said Harry at once.  
"Ah, I see your friend Ms. Granger, cares for you," said Dumbledore with his half moon spectacles falling to his nose.  
"Harry, you can use that book if you want, but we will provide you with the other books you will teach the other students," said Dumbledore.  
"Even seventh years?" asked Harry.  
"Oh yes, " replied Dumbledore, " it's not going to be hard for you Harry. As I understand, you've always got high marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts, you are a very competent student. I know, some topics in the sixth year curriculum will be new to you, and so in the curriculum of the seventh years. But don't worry, you'll be fine. You've always been,"  
Harry now smiled, not intentionally of course.  
"Another few things Harry," began Dumbledore, "now that you are a teacher, you have every right to give students detentions, and to take off points from houses. Also, I will make sure that no teacher takes off points from houses because of you, or even give you detentions," Dumbledore was now turning his head to Professor McGonagall, she smiled.  
"And last, this is your times table Harry," Dumbledore gave the times table to Harry. Harry took it and saw that he had no Divination on it.  
"Sir, I think you've made a mistake, you didn't----"  
"No I did not Harry. As you see, sometimes when you will be teaching, your friends from Gryffindor sixth year will be having Divination. So, as a treat, I decided to drop this subject for you." said Dumbledore, smiling. Harry was relieved to hear this; Divination was the most boring subject he ever took. Even though the centaur Firenze was now teaching it, not Trelawney.  
"Thanks sir!" said Harry, with a beam on his face.  
"Any more questions Harry?" asked Professor Dumbledore.  
"No sir, " replied Harry.  
"Very well then, goodnight Harry, and Harry, don't forget, your password to enter the Gryffindor common room is Seftus Prifictous,"  
Harry immediately got out of his seat, and grabbed the door.  
"Goodnight Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall," that was the last thing Harry said in the office. He was now running to the Fat Lady's Portrait, Harry was thrilled, amazed, happy, confused, bewildered, and excited at the same time. He didn't know what to say to his friends, he didn't know how he will be teaching, he wasn't used to it, he just wanted to sleep and rest.


	8. Adjusting

Harry was now running to get to the Fat Lady's Portrait. At last, he reached it, and muttered Seftus Prifictous quickly, immeadietly, the door was opened. He entered to find the whole Gryffindors, first to seventh years, waiting for him in the common room.  
"Long lives Potter, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher!" screamed everyone in excitement. Harry was a bit shy. They were celebrating on the very first night of their return to Hogwarts, Harry couldn't have believed what they were doing. Dean, who was good at painting, drew a huge banner with Harry's face on it, wearing teacher robes. Colin and Dennis Creevey were taking pictures of him and were adding them to their own photo album. Even seventh years were celebrating, for some of them were very close to Harry in previous years. After about two hours of celebrating, the common room was starting to get empty of students, and then, only Harry, Hermione, and Ron were left.  
"It's really great mate, congratulations," said Ron hugging Harry. "Here, have a Butterbeer."  
Hermione then spoke, "Ron, where did you get that Butterbeer?"  
"Er...stole it from the kitchens," answered Ron, with sweat falling down his nose.  
"Ron...you...are...a...prefect!" said Hermione in a loud voice.  
"I know I am," said Ron again.  
"Guys, please calm down, we don't want an argument on the first night back," said Harry, as he always did whenever he tried to calm the two.  
"Ok, I'm going to bed now, I have to be ready for tomorrow, big day, huh?" said Harry, smiling at Hermione and Ron.  
"I guess so," said Hermione. "By the way, how many lessons will you teach tomorrow?"  
"Two, that's the maximum amount of lessons I can teach in one day, Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall organized it all. I'll be having you guys, and the Slytherins first, and then, later on in the day, let's see...umm...yeah.. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw second years," answered Harry.  
"Well, best be going to sleep, Harry," said Ron, yawning.  
"Oh ok," said Harry.  
"I'm going to bed too," said Hermione.  
So, the common room was finally fully-emptied. Each of the three went to their dormitories and went to sleep. Harry lay on his bed, just wondering how teaching will be, how the students will react to his explanations of the lessons, how much points he's going to take from houses...  
Slowly, Harry closed his eyes, and went to sleep. He fell into the shadows, and then, began snoring.  
The next day, Ron came up to Harry's bed to wake him up. That was strange---usually Harry wakes up before Ron does. Anyway, they both changed into their robes, and headed to The Great Hall for breakfast. They found Hermione already sitting on the table, eating, and reading Force Your Way Through Dark Paths at the same time. Of course, this was not strange to them. They've know Hermione for about six years now, it's ok for them to see her obsessed with her studies.  
"Good morning guys," said Hermione with a sweet smile on her face.  
"Morning," replied Harry, and Ron, sitting on the table and joining Hermione for breakfast.  
"What subject do we have first?" asked Ron.  
"Defence Against the Dark Arts," answered Hermione at once.  
"God! You'll be teaching us the first period," said Ron, excited.  
"I know Ron, it was on my times table," said Harry, with a bit of egg slipping down his mouth.  
"I'm so excited to see you teach us Harry, I'm just worried about the Slytherins, I know they're going to mess up your first lesson," said Hermione quickly.  
"Well, don't worry about that, if they do, I'll take off two hundred points from them," said Harry, laughing.  
"Harry, even if you are a teacher, you shouldn't abuse your position," said Hermione in a low voice.  
"I know Hermione, I was only joking," said Harry, again, laughing.  
At last, the bell rang, and everybody went to their first period classes. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were heading straight to the Defence Against the Dark Arts room. When they arrived, they were surprised to see that no one has arrived yet. Later, everybody was now in the room, and Harry was on the front table, ready to begin the lesson.  
"Hi there---well---in a weird kind of way, Professor Dumbledore has made me the Defence Against The Dark Arts Teacher, and---I just want you to know---that---that I'll be teaching you everything you need to know for this year--oh yeah, and you can call me Harry---I'm rather not used to the terms Professor Harry, since I'm your age and still at school---and--what else?--I think that's all," said Harry in a shaky voice, his knees were shaking now. He never talked in front of the class at the teacher's table. Draco Malfoy was now grinning, along with his gang of Slytherins, including Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson.  
"So," began Harry, " today, we will be studying the art of stunning objects. Of course, stunning comes very handy to you when you're battling with your enemy. Umm...what is the incantation you use to stun?" Immeadietly, Hermione raised her hand high up in the air. Of course, Harry asked her kindly to answer his question.  
"Stupefy," said Hermione. Of course, most of the Gryffindors in this room have studied this last year when they were in the DA group, so, it just was a bit of memory refreshing to them.  
"Excellent, ten points to Gryffindor," said Harry at once. Hermione was smiling.  
"Now, kindly, I want you to pair with a partner, and in turns, start practicing stunning these Redcaps," Harry brought the tank in which the Redcaps were stored. Of course, everyone remembered Redcaps from their third year, because Lupin has taught them about Redcaps.  
Everybody was now with a partner, and soon , the room was filled with noises of saying Stupefy. Not a lot of people got it right from the Slytherins, but most of the Gryffindors did fairly well, due to their learning about stunning last year. Harry then started to walk between the students, observing how they were stunning the Redcaps. Harry was now walking towards Malfoy, who was partnered with Pansy Parkinson. Malfoy turned his face to Harry, and grinned.  
"So," began Malfoy, "how do you like teaching Potter? Always the top in everything, huh?"  
"Git," started Harry," will you kindly shut your mouth? Show me how to stun this Redcap, now."  
Draco hesitated for a moment, but then raised his wand at the Redcap, and muttered Stupefy. Immeadietly, the Redcap was stunned. Then, Draco turned his face to Harry, grinning, waiting for some speech.  
"Not bad, Malfoy," said Harry sympathetically," let me see, ten points to Slytherin."  
Malfoy was amazed. He knew how much they hated each other, but still, he earned his house points. His eyebrows were raised up, and he was still looking at Harry.  
"Back on the train, you said that you'll be giving me hell this year? Well, clearly, I see that there's been a big change, Malfoy. Still, behave, and do what is asked from you, and you'll gain even more points. Understood?" proclaimed Harry.  
"You never change, do you Potter? Always self confident, as if you know everything," said Malfoy slowly.  
"I see you haven't change a lot, wasn't I fair giving you some points? Do you wish for me to take them off?" said Harry angrily.  
"No," replied Malfoy at once.  
The lesson continued and eventually, everyone has succeeded to stun the Redcaps. Harry was now heading towards Neville, the most forgetful boy you could ever imagine.  
"Not bad Neville, five points to Gryffindor," said Harry, smiling. Neville was beaming now.  
Then he continued on explaining more about stunning as the lesson came to a close. Harry thought of giving the class homework, but he hesitated.  
"You all quite did a very great job today, I was thinking of giving you a homework, half a roll of parchment about stunning and its uses, but no, I think it's not very wise to give you a homework from the very first lesson in the very first day. But, I'm telling you this, I'm going to quiz you next lesson on stunning. You have now all mastered stunning, so, it should be pretty easy for you all. Don't worry, the quiz won't take even ten minutes," the class was relieved, when the bell rang at last.  
"Bye, everyone, see you next class," said Harry, waving at the people beside the door. He, Hermione, and Ron, were now packing their stuff, and were heading to the Transfiguration class.  
"That was a bloody brilliant lesson you gave Harry," complimented Ron, happily.  
"It was amazing, Harry. Mind you, I did forget a little about the hand movement for stunning, until you came by and reminded me," said Hermione, giggling.  
"Thank you guys, I didn't expect my first lesson to be this satisfactory," said Harry, smiling at Hermione and Ron.


	9. OWL Results and Human Transfiguration

Harry, Hermione, and Ron have finally reached the Transfiguration classroom. Several students were already there when they entered, and Professor McGonagall was waiting on her desk for the rest of the students to arrive. Harry, Hermione, and Ron found a table, and took out their books, quills, and rolls of parchments in case the lesson was not practical. At last, the room was filled with all the students.  
"Welcome back to Transfiguration everyone," spoke Professor McGonagall, "I hope you had a nice summer." A few people looked back at her in disbelief. Who would be comfortable with the news that Voldemort has returned?  
"Now, before we begin today's lesson, I want to explain why your OWL results haven't been sent to you in July. Well, shortly after your departure last year, Professor Snape got ill. He couldn't have corrected the papers and all the examinations of students from fifth year. So, we had to wait at least a month for him to recover and come back to health again. When he finally was normal again, another thing happened. Peeves had taken all the parchment and scattered it all over the school. It took us rather a very long time to find the rolls of parchment, even with using the summoning charm, Accio. Anyway, your results are ready for you now. I will pass them around, take a quick look at your results, and then put the results in your bags straight away, because this lesson might be exciting to you all."  
She was now moving across the room, distributing the OWL results. Now, she came closer to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. She handed them the results with a quick smile on her face, and then stepped towards the Slytherins to hand them their results. Harry was the first to look at his results. He expected that he didn't do well at all, because of the difficult circumstances with Umbridge being the headmaster last year. It read:

Harry Potter, Gryffindor  
OWL results:  
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding  
Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations  
Charms: Exceeds Expectations  
Potions: Acceptable  
Divination: Poor  
Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding  
Astronomy: Exceeds Expectations  
History of Magic: Poor  
Herbology: Outstanding

"Fair enough, I thought I was going to fail Potions and Astronomy," spoke Harry, relieved with his results.  
"Would you like to see my results? Don't worry, you're better," said Ron.  
"Ok," replied Harry, stretching his hand to take Ron's results.

Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor  
OWL results:  
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding  
Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations  
Charms: Acceptable  
Potions: Poor  
Divination: Acceptable  
Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectations  
Astronomy: Acceptable  
History of Magic: Dreadful  
Herbology: Exceeds Expectations

"Failure in two subjects, Potions and History of Magic. Oh, this is not going to please Mum. She was good at these subjects when she was at school," said Ron, putting his results in his bag. Hermione was very impressed with her results. Ron and Harry took her paper and read her results. Clearly, she was indeed the cleverest witch in her year.

Hermione Granger, Gryffindor  
OWL results:  
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding  
Transfiguration: Outstanding  
Charms: Exceeds Expectations  
Potions: Outstanding  
Care of Magical Creatures: Outstanding  
Astronomy: Outstanding  
History of Magic: Outstanding  
Ancient Runes: Outstanding  
Arithmancy: Outstanding  
Herbology: Outstanding

Harry and Ron's jaw fell.  
"It's really a wonder why the sorting hat didn't place you in Ravenclaw Hermione. But congratulations, ten OWLs!" said Harry.  
"Thanks guys," declared Hermione. "I never dreamed that I'll get Outstanding on all of the subjects."  
"Now, everyone, kindly put away your results and do not discuss them with anyone, it's your own business and no one else's. Today, I'm telling you that you have to be serious. I'll be teaching you a new session this year, probably the most exciting part of Transfiguration. We will be starting Human Transfiguration," spoke Professor McGonagall. Sighs came out from every corner in the class. Harry, Hermione, and Ron beamed. They clearly remembered how Harry suggested transfiguring himself into a fish or frog to be able to breathe under the lake when he was about to start the second task of the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year.   
"Again, I'm telling you that you have to be very serious and careful in this kind of transfiguration, otherwise, everything will turn out badly," spoke Professor McGonagall sharply. "I need a volunteer from you to demonstrate Human Transfiguration."  
Everybody was swallowing a lump in their throats. They didn't want to risk the chance of being transfigured, they didn't know what it could lead to.   
"Anyone at all?" asked Professor McGonagall, looking disappointed. Then, Hermione got out of her seat to help Professor McGonagall.  
"Well thank you Ms. Granger, I was beginning to think that no one will come," said Professor McGonagall, smiling.  
"Everyone, pay attention closely. You point your wand at the person's head, wave it horizontally two times, and clearly pronounce the incantation, _Vellacroz_," said Professor McGonagall. At once, smoke appeared, and Hermione was gone. Instead, there stood a cute little puppy in her place. Draco Malfoy was on the floor, laughing.  
"You wouldn't like that if I did it to you Mr. Malfoy, would you?" asked Professor McGonagall, looking angry.  
"Now, this is the part that is most important. The counter curse for this spell, is simply waving your wand vertically at the animal's head," then, Hermione appeared again. She was extremely dizzy, and she lost her balance. Nobody seemed to care and help her back to her seat. So, Harry and Ron both got up, put Hermione's arms on their shoulders, and helped her walk to her seat.  
"Thank you," she said, kindly.  
"How did that feel Ms. Granger?" asked Professor McGonagall.  
"Well--it was---completely weird, and---and I felt so dizzy," replied Hermione, with her hands on her head trying to stop it spinning.   
"Now, you've all seen how human transfiguration works. It really is useful sometimes. But I'm warning you, never transfigure a human to punish him, and never transfigure him for your own benefit," she said sternly.  
"I want you all now to pair up, and practice transfiguring each other, and remember the counter curse. Each one of you has his or her own unique shape when transfigured," cried Professor McGonagall trying to hush up the chattering of the class. Hermione of course didn't participate, instead, Professor McGonagall summoned her to her desk, drew out an armchair, and let her rest till the class ends. She was really tired. Harry was partnered with Ron, and they went to the back left corner of the class to practice transfiguring each other.  
"Shall I begin first?" asked Harry.  
"Ok," replied Ron. Immeadietly, Harry took out his wand, waved it horizontally two times at Ron's head, and said _Vellacroz_. Smoke was circling Ron, and then, it happened. Ron vanished. There was a small tiger standing in his place. Harry was now moving away from it, he knew that a tiger could be terribly harmful. After that, he quickly took out his wand, and performed the counter curse. Ron was back, leaning on Harry's shoulders. He felt just the way Hermione had felt.  
"Is it really that awful?" asked Harry.  
"You couldn't possibly imagine," replied Ron, still trying to stop the spinning of his head. "Honestly, I don't blame Hermione for what she felt."  
"So, shall I get on with transfiguring you?"  
"Allright," answered Harry. Ron took out his wand, waved it horizontally two times, and lazily muttered, "_Vellacroz_". Harry was now gone. A beautiful young grey deer stood in his place. He was beginning to lick Ron's cheek. Ron moved the deer's mouth away, disgusted. He did the counter curse, and Harry appeared out of thin air. He was on all fours, looking really dizzy.  
"I told you it wasn't easy," said Ron, helping Harry up.  
"Yeah, I believe you," said Harry, still trying to get up.  
"By the way, you turned into a deer, and you licked my cheek,"  
"Really?" asked Harry, amazed.  
"Yeah. Hey, you turn into a deer, just like your Patronus right? And your father was an Animagus that turned into a stag?" asked Ron.  
"Ssh, lower your voice Ron," said Harry.  
"Sorry,"  
"Maybe you're correct," said Harry. Then, the two turned their heads to look at the Gryffindors laughing their heads off at the transfigured Malfoy. The creature was half a cow, and the top part was Malfoy's body. Professor McGonagall hurried towards him, and did something with her wand to transfigure him back to his normal state. He was extremely embarrassed, Crabbe was his partner. He nearly hit him, but before he could even raise his fist, Professor McGonagall stopped him, and took away 10 points from Slytherin.  
"I told you, Mr. Crabbe, that you need to wave your wand vertically two times, not horizontally four times to do the counter curse," said Professor McGonagall, furiously. "Perhaps next time you would care to pay attention, and stop talking with Mr. Goyle?" Crabbe nodded, and apologized to Malfoy.  
The bell has finally rung, and everyone dashed away. Harry and Ron both did the locomotion spell to drag Hermione, her bag, and books to the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall reminded them that they weren't allowed to use magic in the corridors, so they had to carry her. At last, they reached the hospital wing, and placed her on a bed to complete her serene sleep, for the remaining fifteen minutes before Care of Magical Creatures. Madam Pomfrey of course took good care of her, and told Harry and Ron to come pick her up again ten minutes later.  
As they stepped away from the hospital wing, they saw the Slytherins coming out of the Transfiguration room, all looking tired.  
"Was that the best Transfiguration lesson you've ever had or what?" asked Ron.  
" I guess so," replied Harry. "Remember Hermione telling us in fourth year that Human Transfiguration is in sixth year? Well, here we are now."  
"Yeah, I remember that allright," answered Ron. They continued on chatting and discussing the transfiguration lesson. Then, they switched to the topic of Harry's second Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson later that day. Time has gone, and they didn't notice. Then, Harry saw his hand watch, and grabbed Ron quickly to get Hermione from the Hospital Wing. Seven minutes only were left till Care of Magical Creatures.


	10. Fixards

At last, Harry and Ron reached the Hospital Wing. They nearly lost their breaths, because they were running as fast as they could. They entered, and saw Madam Pomfrey mending a student's broken jaw, probably a second or first year. Anyway, they asked permission to take Hermione, and Madam Pomfrey agreed. When Harry and Ron stepped towards Hermione's bed, they were whispering her name to wake her up, but nothing happened. They tried that for several times, but still, nothing. Then, Harry was patting her on her shoulder. Immeadietly, she opened her mouth to yawn.  
"Had a nice sleep?" asked Harry.  
"Oh yes, very pleasant," answered Hermione, getting off the bed.  
"Come on, we have Care of Magical Creatures in five minutes," said Ron.  
"Really?" said Hermione, looking stunned. "Why haven't you woken me up earlier?"  
"Madam Pomfrey told us that you need rest after Human Transfiguration," replied Harry quickly.  
"Well allright, but next time if I fall asleep, and we have a lesson, wake me up straight away," said Hermione in a low voice.  
"Ok, sorry," declared Harry and Ron.  
After that, the three marched off to Care of Magical Creatures. They were now on the Hogwarts grounds, nearly reaching Hagrid's hut.  
"Hullo you three," grunted Hagrid.  
"Hi Hagrid," said the three. Ron looked very disappointed.  
"What is it?" asked Harry, mystified by Ron's face expression.  
"Every year, it never changes, we're still with the Slytherins," he said sharply.  
"Don' ya worry Ron, if they cross red lines again I'll make sure they don' do it again. This year, I'll take off points as I never did before," said Hagrid, smiling.  
Now, students were appearing. They came closer to Hagrid's hut, and stood there waiting for the lesson to begin.  
"Good mornin' everyone, welcome back, so nice to see ya," said Hagrid, beaming. "Today, we will be learning about Fixards." Everyone, as usual, gave Hagrid a what-are-you-talking-about look.   
"Anyone knows about these beauties?" asked Hagrid. Hermione raised her hand.  
"They are creatures that have a front body of a fox, and the hind legs and back of a lizard. They are very fast in crawling, and can jump ten feet. They're bite is very poisonous and deadly. They are eyeless; they rely on their huge ears to see their way," explained Hermione.  
"Excellent Hermione, twenty points to Gryffindor," said Hagrid.  
"Now, class, you wait here, while I get the Fixards," and immeadietly, Hagrid ran behind his hut to get the new creatures.  
"The half-breed- monstrous creatures- lover," spoke the cold voice of Draco Malfoy," can never teach us about normal creatures that we can properly handle. Always obsessed with those monsters. I wonder what they'll be doing to us this lesson. I bet you anything someone will get bitten." Harry heard him. He knew how much he had the power to take of points from Slytherin, he was a teacher. However, there was a deep desire in him to go and kick Malfoy as hard as he can. He had already moved towards the gang of Slytherins, but Hermione held his hand.  
"Ignore him---just ignore him Harry, we don't want anymore trouble," she said fervently.  
"I swear that if he doesn't behave----"started Harry.  
"I know Harry, we all feel the same. But, it's pointless to go pick a row with him. Really, everybody knows he hates half-breeds. We got used to it. Honestly Harry, you shouldn't fight please,"  
"Didn't you hear him offending Hagrid? What should I do? Stand here and smile at him like a clown?" said Harry angrily.  
"Trust me Harry, I know how you feel," said Hermione. "It's really pointless----" but they were interrupted by Ron.  
"Hey guys, check out the Fixards," he said, a wide smile on his face.  
Hagrid was carrying three of those creatures. They were the size of six year old, about 1 meter long each. Their hind legs were green, just like a lizard. The front of them was really hairy, and orange. Indeed, they had no eyes, but rather huge ears that were the size of two hands put together.  
"Beautiful, aren' they?" asked Hagrid.  
"What exactly are we going to do with them?" asked Malfoy.  
"Well, you see, today, I'll demonstrate how to attract the attention of these little animals," answered Hagrid. "They completely ignore you if you don't do this." At once, he took out a dead mouse, and threw it quickly at the floor. The Fixard's ear moved towards the bottom.  
"See everyone?" asked Hagrid. "They use their ears to sense movements around them. Don't you try to fool them, they're dead clever."  
The Fixard now was approaching the dead mouse. It opened its mouth, and out came a very long curly tongue. In seconds, the tongue caught the mouse, and went back inside.  
"Wow," came the voices of many students around Hagrid's hut.  
"This is another way of attracting their attention," said Hagrid, placing the second Fixard on the floor. He raised his hands high, and clapped them together. The second Fixard turned to Hagrid's direction, and made a sound, a combination of a snake's hissing and a dog's barking, which was really weird. The Fixard was now crawling very fast, nearing Hagrid. He jumped up 10 feet, just as Hermione had explained earlier. Before the Fixard landed on Hagrid's head, Hagrid grabbed the Fixard from its neck, and his other hand was holding both hind legs.  
"You see? Fixards will attack ya if you make loud noises, they don' like loud sounds, they damage their ears. Like I did, whenever a Fixard is attacking ya, ya hold it from the neck and hind legs, ok? These points of the Fixard's body are the points where it mostly relies on to move. But you don' wanna injure them. As soon as they are still again, not movin', you let'em go. Get it?"  
"Now, I want you all to pair up, and practice attracting their attention," said Hagrid.  
"Their attention? What, there are only three of them," said Malfoy. Harry's face was reddening. However, Hermione stopped him.  
"Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me Malfoy. I'll go get the rest of 'em from me pumpkin patch," said Hagrid. When he returned, there were about thirty Fixards behind him, crawling so fast to get to the class.  
"Easy now, each two of ya grab a Fixard, and start practicing. I've got about a hundred dead mice over here (he pointed to a dark brow wooden box beside the hut's door), to feed the Fixards of course,"  
Harry was partnered with Hermione. Ron went with Neville. Harry has taken a Fixard, and grabbed a bunch of dead mice.  
"One more thing kids, before ya start, you might wanna were your gloves for extra protection. I told ya, their bites really hurt," said Hagrid. Harry and Hermione took out their gloves from their bags, wore them straight away. Their Fixard was lying on the ground, still, not doing anything, and he didn't seem to care about them.  
"Ok, let's get going," said Harry. Immeadietly, he grabbed a mouse and threw it quickly to the floor. The Fixard's ear moved down, he got up and crawled to get to the dead mouse. Harry and Hermione were waiting to see if the Fixard will eat his meal. They were absolutely correct. The Fixard opened its mouth, and its curly tongue came out. His tongue was squeezing the mouse, more than just holding him. Then it went in again. Harry and Hermione clearly saw the Fixard chewing the dead mouse.  
"Wow," said Hermione, looking satisfied.   
"Shall you do it the second way now?" asked Harry.  
"Ok," replied Hermione.  
"Be careful though, Hermione. If the sound is loud enough, it'll attack your head. Probably bite it off. And you don't want to be hurt by the Fixard, do you?" asked Harry.  
"Of course not,"  
She now raised both of her hands, and clapped them strongly, producing a loud noise. Immeadietly, the Fixard turned towards her, lowering its head. It crawled quickly, and then it jumped about ten feet. It was descending now, coming even closer to Hermione's head, with its mouth opened, its fangs were really sharp. Quickly, Hermione stretched both her hands, and grabbed the Fixard's neck and hind legs. She was sort of knocked down to the floor, but she got up seconds later, waited till the Fixard was still. Then, she let go of it. It was heading to Hagrid's pumpkin patch.  
"Nice work Hermione," complimented Harry.  
"Thanks, see I told you it was easy," she replied.  
"I know, but it could've gotten your head anytime Hermione. Its fangs were really scary,"  
The two were now walking to Hagrid, he was watching the Slytherins. They were doing quite a good job though. Until...  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! It got my head, someone, get it off now!" screamed Malfoy, spinning around, his hands on the Fixard's back, trying to get it off. Hagrid came running to him, grabbed the Fixard from its neck and hind legs. Then, he came closer to Malfoy to check the damages.   
"Just a scratch Malfoy, not by its fangs of course, or you would've been poisoned. Naah, it was from its front paw," he said.  
"Ms Parkinson, would you kindly take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing? Tell Madam Pomfrey he needs some cleaning to the wound on his face," said Hagrid. Pansy Parkinson didn't even answer him, she headed straight to Malfoy, and took him to the castle to go to the hospital wing. Ron was giggling.  
"What are you laughing at?" asked Harry.  
"Did you see his face when that Fixard got him?"  
"Yeah, but it must've been a really sharp hit by the paw. Its claws are like a knife," said Harry. "But that ought to teach him a lesson, huh?"  
"That made him pay back for offending Hagrid when he was away," said Ron happily, taking off his gloves.  
"Remember in third year, when Buckbeak bit him?" said Hermione. "He was running across the grounds, thinking that he was being killed?"  
"That lousy git," said Ron and Harry together. Harry was tying his shoe laces. Minutes later, Pansy returned with Draco. He wasn't over the shock yet, but at least he could talk.  
"I should have never taken this subject, the worst between all," spoke Draco coolly.  
"Right then now, today you've seen how to attract them Fixards, next lesson, I'll show ya their great strength," spoke Hagrid, carrying five Fixards and putting them away in his pumpkin patch.  
"Haven't we seen enough?" shrieked Parvati Patil. "Was that just a start with those Dixfads?"  
"Fixards," corrected her Seamus.  
"Whatever," she said, exasperated.  
The bell rang at last, and its sound echoed all over the walls of the castle.   
"See ya next time folks," grunted Hagrid.  
Students now were putting their gloves back in their bags, and moving away from Hagrid's hut. It was time for lunch in the Great Hall, everyone was starving.  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron went inside and sat at the Gryffindor table. It was like they've never seen food before. Truly, they were extremely hungry. Ron was chewing on a turkey. Harry was taking the first bite of a steak. Hermione was licking a chicken leg, enjoying the taste. Half an hour passed until the Great Hall was starting to get empty of students. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were full. They hardly moved. However, they had a break of fifteen minutes till the next lesson began.  
"Oh, great, I have the second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs now," spoke Harry, getting out of his seat.  
"Don't worry Harry, you'll be fine," said Hermione. She too was getting out of her seat. Ron was relaxing his head on his hands. He was beginning to feel a bit drowsy.  
"Ron, this is the wrong time to get sleepy," said Hermione, waking him up.  
"What? Yeah----right," he yawned.  
After that, Ron said goodbye and marched off to Divination, Hermione went to her Arithmancy class. Harry was left alone. He had ten more minutes till his lesson began. But, he couldn't wait any longer. He got out of his seat, grabbed his bag, and walked to the Defence Against the Dark Arts Room.


	11. Warning and Vision

Later that day, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were extremely exhausted from all the lessons, even though it was their first day back to school. The three were in the Gryffindor Common Room, accompanied by Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, Dean, and two third year girls who were doing their homework.  
"What did you teach the Huffelpuffs and Ravenclaws today Harry?" asked Hermione, getting something out of her bag.  
"Oh, I just introduced them to the basics again, as refreshment to their learning in first year. Then, I told them that for the next two weeks we'll be studying history rather than Defence Against the Dark Arts, but it'll be fun," he replied, stretching.  
"Hermione, what's that?" asked Ron, pointing at Hermione's bag.  
"This? It's thread, you know, for S.P.E.W," she answered.  
"What? You're still knitting hats for those house-elves?" asked Ron in anger.  
"Yes I am, I told you that I won't give it a rest until they have decent wages," replied Hermione.  
"Sooner or later, there will be no house-elves left of Hogwarts because of you!" roared Ron furiously.  
"I don't care, I'm telling you----" Immeadietly, Harry took out his wand.  
"_Silencio_!" he muttered.  
At once, Hermione and Ron both were silent, and didn't open their mouths.  
"I'm terribly sorry for that, but it seems that there's no other way of calming you down," said Harry. Five minutes later, Hermione and Ron ceased to be silent. They talked again, about the house-elf issue.  
"Look guys, I'm very tired, I'm going to sleep, you can stay here all night arguing about those stupid house-elves (Hermione's face was red)," said Harry, yawning. Minutes after he went upstairs to sleep, Hermione and Ron went upstairs too. No one was left in the common room.

For the next month, students from sixth year have been learning quite a lot. In transfiguration, they carried on with Human Transfiguration and learned how to transfigure someone into two creatures at once. In Herbology, they learned about Mush Roses, which were plants that had the stem of a rose, and on top, a mushroom. They learned about its properties, the most important is that it can produce a red liquid that can burn skin. In Defence Against the Dark Arts, with Harry teaching of course, students have learnt the impediment jinx and reductor curse. In potions, they've only revised some potions from previous years, such as the Draught of Peace. In care of Magical Creatures, they've learnt more about Fixards, and then, they studied Winged Monkeys, Jellycats, and Eagle Crabs. They were very fascinating creatures indeed, they had lots of strengths. In astronomy, they've learnt how every ten years, three gigantic stars line up to make peace everywhere on Earth. The students were sometimes just bored, with repeating the same thing on and on and on in lessons, but in other times, they were just so excited. But, why couldn't have the previous years been similar to this?  
"When will I ever get these corrected?" said Harry, looking at the tests that he gave the fourth years. "There must be one hundred and fifty rolls of parchment to correct."  
"I know Harry," said Hermione sympathetically," it must be terrible. Staying over the nights to correct every single piece of parchment, reading between lines, it must be very frustrating!"  
"I don't blame you mate, for how you feel," said Ron, clapping Harry on the back.  
"Tell you what," started Harry," I'll go correct these in my classroom, perhaps there I could check in books for correct information students have written here when in doubt."  
"Do it if it suits you," said Hermione.  
Harry got up, collected all the papers which were a very heavy load, and stepped out of the common room to head of to his classroom. Filch, the caretaker, was there, checking if anyone was out of bed. Although Harry was a teacher now, and had every right to wonder along the corridors after hours, he didn't dare speak to Filch. Deep in his heart, hatred of Filch filled it. He clearly remembered all the grief Filch gave him since his first year at Hogwarts, and remembered the time when Filch missed Umbridge because she sneaked out of the castle last year. At last, Filch was gone. Harry tiptoed to his classroom's door, careful to not make any noise, and reached inside his pockets to get the keys, but his pockets were empty.  
"Not again, forgot the keys," whispered Harry to himself.  
Then, he reached to the other pocket in his robes, took out his wand, pointed it to the keyhole, and said, "_Alohomora_". At once, the door was unlocked. Harry entered, quickly went to his desks and began to correct the papers. He was now correcting at least the eighty fourth roll of parchment, and so far, every paper got over ninety percent. He was a bit impressed with his teaching now, and began to trust himself. His hands were feeling numb, and he couldn't have moved another finger. Harry yawned and yawned, but still resisted the dizziness, and continued on correcting the papers. At least and hour passed, when suddenly, Harry heard someone approaching his door. He wondered who it was. There was a quick knock on the door, and then, Snape came in.  
"Professor Snape," began Harry," what brings you here at this time of night?"  
"The headmaster has sent me to remind you of something," started Snape, with a wicked smile on his face.  
"What?" asked Harry, looking curious.  
"You for sure remember the circumstances last year. You have been having all those visions, and not normal dreams. Am I correct Potter?"  
"Yes,"  
"Well, the headmaster just sent me here to remind you of practicing Occlumency every night before you go to sleep,"  
"What? But I don't have those dreams anymore, I mean I----"  
"You will do as you are told Potter. Believe me, this is not my wish, but the headmaster's. Now, kindly listen to him, and do not disappoint me, or I might report you,"  
"Report me? This is ridiculous! Honestly Professor, those weir visions-----"  
"Potter!" shouted Snape loudly." Don't forget that Lord Voldemort won't rest until you are killed!"  
Not only that this was the answer Harry expected to hear from Snape, but Snape, for the first time in six years, has dared to speak Voldemort's name.  
"Well, I-----" began Harry.  
"Harry, listen to me. You are the Dark Lord's target since sixteen years, when he tried to kill you. What the headmaster and I tell you, is for your own good. Practice freeing your mind from all of those thoughts, or else, Voldemort will, again, manipulate them. I promise you Potter, that if you don't practice, you'll be sneaking out of lessons, maybe even your lesson, to go to the headmaster and explain the situation," explained Snape.  
"Ok," said Harry quietly.  
"This was just another warning, Potter. Remember, it's for your own safety," said Snape, now moving away from Harry's desk, heading to the door.  
"Good luck," said Snape, and he shut the door behind him.  
Harry was now completely bewildered by Snape's attitude. He has spoken Voldemort's name, he spoke kindly to Harry, and Harry noticed that this was a great change in Snape. Anyway, after that, Harry returned back to correct the tests of the fourth years. There were only twenty rolls of parchment left, he was feeling wearisome. He had no wish to continue on correcting, but he insisted on completing his work. Another half an hour passed. The castle was absolutely silent. Suddenly, Harry's scar was burning so hot, it was excruciating pain that he never experienced before. He put his hand on it, and then, saw some red liquid on his hand. His scar was bleeding. This was very painful. Harry got out of his chair, and tried to calm down, but the pain came again, so sharp. He could no longer stand it, then, he fell to the floor. His glasses were broken, his eyes closed. He was beginning to sink into the shadows.  
Harry was in the corridors of the castle, looking very curious and vigilant. He was looking around him, as though expecting any danger to attack him. Then, he reached the eighth floor of the castle, and turned to the right. He entered a room, so dark that he couldn't have seen a thing. He lit his wand, and pointed it around. When suddenly, he felt extremely cold… He was seeing ten tall hooded figures approach him. They were dementors. He quickly said the incantation "_Expecto patronum_," but nothing happened. The dementors were coming nearer, and nearer to Harry. Then, they held his hand, and were lifting him to the air. Harry wasn't able to speak a word. He saw something, glowing in a green color. It was a gigantic wolf, which he never saw anything like before. It was opening its mouth, and then came the cold voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry was struggling to get out of the dementors' grip, and run away.  
"Harry, Harry, Harry," spoke Voldemort," sixteen years I've been waiting for this moment. Trust me, there will be no escape for you this time. It's time that you die,"  
Instantly, Voldemort raised his wand, laughed, and said Avada Kedavra. Harry, at once, saw flash of brilliant green light, and dropped down to the floor. He was dead.  
"_Noooooooooo_!" shouted Harry. He just awoke from a terrible nightmare, or more likely, a terrible vision. Harry was catching his breath now, his heart beating so fast. He got up, repaired his broken glasses with Reparo, and went out of the classroom. He didn't even care to correct the remaining tests of the fourth years, he was in deep agony. He was running to reach the Gryffindor Common Room. Quickly, he muttered _Seftus Prefectous_, and the portrait of the Fat Lady sprang open. Straight away, he climbed upstairs, and went to sleep. He wanted to relax, to free his mind. Now, he began to see the true value of Occlumency.


	12. Advice from MadEye

Through the night, Harry didn't for once, calmly close his eyes. He kept worrying about his future. He was beginning to think that this year will be it. As Dumbledore had said to him before, one of them was going to die in the end. However, a strong voice in his head kept telling him about courage, and reminded him about the times when he had to face Voldemort's evil, and escape in the end. Still, Harry wasn't comfortable at all.  
Next morning, Harry crept out of his bed, and joined Ron and Hermione for breakfast. He didn't dare tell them about the horrible vision, because he was to tired to say anything. He even thought of telling Dumbledore that he couldn't teach today, but nevertheless, he didn't.  
"Good morning Harry," said Hermione, spreading jam on her toast.  
"Good morning Hermione," replied Harry.  
"Had a nice sleep?" asked Ron.  
"Yeah," lied Harry at once.  
"Listen, guess what?" asked Hermione. Harry and Ron were gazing at her waiting for her to answer herself.  
"I knitted about eighty hats last night," she said, beaming.  
"So?" said Ron, with a blank expression on his face.  
"Oh, you never guessed it? They're for the house-elves!" replied Hermione.  
"There you go Harry, the ruddy house-elves again," said Ron, looking bored.  
"Ron, how many times must I tell you? They love the hats," said Hermione, furiously.  
"Forget it, I'm not even going to talk about it," said Ron immeadietly.  
"That's my friend Ron," said Harry weakly, but still giggling.  
Several minutes passed, until at last, Harry, Hermione, and Ron, finished eating their breakfast. Ever since the beginning of the year, they've been eating more than usual. Perhaps they weren't getting enough food. Anyway, they got out of their seats, and directly marched to the dungeons. Potions was their first lesson.  
"Potty, Weazel, and the mudblood Granger," came the cool voice of Draco Malfoy.  
"Just ignore him Harry," said Ron and Hermione together, although Ron was on the verge of snapping.  
"I've had it with him," said Harry, then he went near to Malfoy.  
"Thirty points from Slytherin Malfoy, want to go for more?"  
Draco's face slightly turned pink.   
After that, they entered the dark dull Potions classroom. Everyone was chatting, still waiting for Snape to arrive. A gang of Slytherins were having a wand fight. Suddenly, the door sprang open, and a thin, vicious looking man entered.  
"Settle down everyone," spoke Snape. They did as he told them.  
"Today, we will be studying a new potion; one of the most powerful ones in fact," he continued. The class was intrigued by that statement. Of course, they've had lots of excitement since the first day of classes, Fixards, Human Transfiguration, Eagle Crabs, Jellycats, and lots of other things.  
"It's called the Brundy Potion. This potion can make you lose all the blood in your body within a few minutes, unless of course, you drank the exact opposite potion that would return all of the lost blood," explained Snape.  
"I presume that you all have your cauldrons with you?"  
Every one raised their heavy cauldrons in the air.  
"Right, these are the instructions of how to prepare the potion on the board," he instantly waved his wand, and the instructions appeared on the board.  
"You have ten minutes to get yourself ready, and then, when the potion is ready, spill it on your animal's mouth. Be sure that your animals are in the pans, I don't want blood all over the class. Quickly, after seeing the animal lose its blood, take one of these tubes which contains the opposite potion, and spill it on the animal's mouth to get its blood back. Clear?"  
The whole class nodded.  
"Right then, you may start," said Snape.  
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville all grabbed the ingredients and started adding them together in the cauldron. It took them rather a long time, because all of the chopping they had to do, and the skinning, and the squeezing. At last, the potions were ready. Neville was shaking, fearing that his potion went all wrong. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he grabbed Trevor, his toad, and spilled the potion on his mouth. Nothing happened for seconds, and then, it worked! Blood was dripping from Trevor's mouth and eyes. It was a bit repulsive and disgusting.  
"You must get the other potion to return the lost blood Neville, otherwise Trevor will die in a minute," spoke Harry. Instantly, Neville across the tables, and headed to Snape's cupboard, and grabbed the other potion. Everything then went right. All the blood that was lost was returned to Trevor. Snape, unfortunately for him, has seen Neville doing the right thing. Lazily, he said:  
"Ten points to Gryffindor,"  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron all gave Neville a thumbs-up.  
Throughout the day, Harry taught the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fifth years, and then, the Gryffindor and Slytherin third years. He was amused by their behavior, they did whatever he asked. So, as a treat, he canceled the test he scheduled for them next week, and decided to postpone it till two weeks later. Everyone thanked Harry. Some people from Slytherin even kissed him. He was relieved. Still, something inside him didn't allow him to be entirely satisfied and comfortable. He felt a bit guilty for not telling Hermione and Ron about the vision, because he always knew that they would be there to help him. So then, he decided to tell them at night, when they all gathered in the Gryffindor Common Room.  
At last, nightfall. Every student in the castle was heading back to his or her dormitory. Hermione and Ron were shouting at some people from Slytherin for trying to sneak out after everyone was in their common rooms. They got themselves landed in detention.   
After that, the trio went inside, and relaxed beside the fire in the common room. It was time, and Harry had to tell them about last night.  
"I've got something to tell you," and then he told them all about the vision.  
"What? Why haven't you told us any earlier?" asked Hermione, horrified.  
"Relax Hermione," said Ron.  
"That's what you saw, wasn't it?" queried Hermione.  
"Yep," replied Harry.  
"Well, this foreshadows your death," said Ron.  
"I know it does. It's just that----I---well, I escaped from him five times now, why wouldn't I this time?" said Harry, looking scared.  
"Harry, you must not underestimate Voldemort. You know him. After Dumbledore, he's the most powerful wizard in the entire world," said Hermione.  
"I know Hermione. So, what could we do?" asked Ron, looking curious.  
"I have an idea, why don't you go meet Firenze?" suggested Hermione.  
"Firenze? What's he got to do with this?" asked Harry, mystified.  
"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? He's a divination teacher. Maybe he could make a prediction based on the facts of your vision. You know, all that nonsense of crystal balls, and palmistry," answered Hermione.  
"Now you're saying it's nonsense?" asked Ron, laughing.  
"I don't know anything else to say!"  
"Ok, maybe this is a good idea. I'll go ask him tomorrow," said Harry at once.  
" Allright," said Ron, yawning. He got up, and climbed the stair to go to sleep.  
"Goodnight Harry," said Hermione, getting up, leaving Harry alone in the common room.  
For minutes, Harry lay there, with his eyes shut, trying to recline. And then...  
Then, Harry heard some sort of voice coming out of the fire. There was a quick pop, and someone's head appeared. Harry jumped, surprised.  
"Mad Eye!" he shouted.  
"Hello Potter, pleasant to see you again," replied Mad Eye.  
"Professor, what are you doing here?"  
"First of all, I keep telling you to get rid of the terms '_Professor_', and second, I came here to check on your conditions,"  
"Uh...sorry," said Harry. " It's great to see you. How are things going on with you?"  
"Aah, they're just fine. The members of the Order are dying to see you. They've missed you so much. Lupin told me about his visit to you during the summer."  
"Oh, he told you about that?" asked Harry.  
"Yeah. So, let's hear about you. Anything bothering you Potter? Anything at all?"  
For a few short seconds, Harry considered saying no. But then, he decided to tell Mad Eye about the vision incident. He answered yes, and then told him the story.  
"Interesting indeed," said Mad Eye.   
" I know. Hey, Hermione suggested going to ask Firenze about it,"  
"Firenze? Isn't that the centaur that was banished last year from his herd? What's he got to do with you?" asked Mad Eye.  
"Well, he got made a divination teacher last year, after Umbridge sacking Trelawney," replied Harry.  
"I see now," replied Mad Eye, " well, all I've got to say is that you have to be very careful. Always expect the unexpected."  
"Ok,"  
"I've got to get going, Lupin and Tonks'll be here any moment now," spoke Mad Eye," it was nice meeting you again Harry, and remember my advice. Well, bye!" At once, there was a soft pop, and Mad Eye vanished. Harry after that got out of his seat, carefully considering the two advices that were given to him. Ask Firenze, and expect the unexpected. He climbed up the stairs, opened the boy's dormitory's door, which made a sharp-annoying creak, and headed to his bed. Thoughts were all over his head. He was still uneasy about the vision, but satisfied with having his friends on his side to help him. He didn't know what Firenze was going to say. He just went to sleep, and waited for dawn. 


	13. An Ominous Elucidation

The sunrays crept through the open windows, and reached Harry's four poster bed, waking him up. Still tired, Harry got out of his bed, and directly headed downstairs. Hermione, Ron, Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny were gathered around something he couldn't have seen quite clearly.  
"Good morning friends," said Harry happily.  
"Oh, good morning Harry," replied Hermione. "Come down and look at what we've got here."  
"What?" asked Harry.  
"Just come down here," added Hermione quickly.  
"Allright," proclaimed Harry slowly, yawning. He came downstairs, and approached the group of his friends.  
" So, what's the big deal?" he asked. Then, Ginny and Lavender sort of moved away, and Harry saw the thing they were hiding from him. It was a weird looking creature that looked very familiar to him. He's seen it before. It was...  
"Winky!" shouted Harry in disbelief.  
"Ssssh! You'll wake her up!" said Parvati.  
"Sorry," apologized Harry," so, how did she come here anyway?"  
"Well, maybe she sort of dozed off when she was cleaning last night," said Hermione.  
"Look, let's wake her up, she's supposed to be with the other house-elves preparing breakfast in the kitchens," spoke Lavender.  
"Do we have to?" asked Ginny, stretching.  
"Well, we can't have her here all day, can we?" asked Hermione. Then, Hermione and Harry were patting Winky on her large bat-like ears and on her head. For moments, nothing happened. And then, suddenly, Winky jumped out of the armchair, with horror.  
"Good to see you sir and Miss," spoke Winky, still shaking.  
"What is it Winky?" asked Hermione kindly.  
"Winky is having a nightmare Miss. A very terrible nightmare," answered Winky.  
"What was it?" asked Ron.  
"Master Barty is welcoming Winky back home sir, Winky is very happy, and then...He Who Must Not Be Named turns out in the backyard and kills Master Barty...and then...then..." she was in tears.  
"It's allright Winky," said Hermione, calming her down, "it was only a nightmare. It's not real."   
"But...but...it's looking so real, Miss," said Winky.  
"Don't worry Winky," said Ginny politely.  
" Winky must go now, sirs and Misses. Winky must help prepare breakfast," spoke Winky, getting away from the group and heading to the exit.  
"Oh, Winky, if Dobby's there, tell him I said Hi," proclaimed Harry happily.  
"Winky is sir. Winky will tell Dobby. Goodbye," and she left.  
"God, she still must be in that shock of Mr. Crouch setting her free," said Ron.  
"You can't blame her. She simply loved working for him," said Harry.  
"Listen," began Harry, in a quiet voice," we've still got about fifty minutes till classes begin, I'm going to ask Firenze about the vision, ok?"  
"Better hurry up," said Ron.  
"Good luck," said Hermione.  
After that , Harry got out of the armchair, and headed to the door. He was walking faster than normal, very keen to get Firenze's advice and explanation of the vision he had. Only last year, Professor Trelawney got sacked, and the centaur Firenze, was made the new Divination teacher. Obviously, he couldn't have climbed up the stairs to reach North Tower. So, he taught Divination in classroom eleven. He had turned the classroom to his natural habitat, the forest. It was green, grassy, and beautiful as Harry remembered it.  
At last, he reached the classroom's door, and knocked three times, but there was no answer. Then, Harry thought he'd saw something moving behind him. He realized that there was a very big tall shadow on the door, when he turned around...  
"Good day Mr. Potter, have you been wanting to see me?" spoke the voice of a centaur.  
"Firenze! You scared me!" said Harry, catching his breath.  
"Sorry for that. So, shall we enter?" and Firenze opened the door to enter the classroom. Just as Harry remembered it, the room was green, full of leafy trees, and the ground was grassy. Harry went to the front of the class, and sat under the shadows of two lovely trees.   
"Um...Professor...the other night, I had some type of vision, that was really bad and terrible. So, um...I came here seeking your explanation. That's of course it you didn't mind.."  
"Not at all Mr. Potter. So, what did you see?"  
"Well, here it is," began Harry, "I was walking in the corridors of the eighth floor of this castle. Then, I was looking around me, as though some danger was approaching. Then, I came near to a door, and opened it. The room I entered was so dark. After that, I heard some cold voices, voices of dementors. I tried to say the incantation that was used to drive them away, the Patronus charm, but nothing happened. I was nervous. They came closer, and lifted me in the air. Then, I saw a big wolf come near to me. Its mouth opened, and the voice of Voldemort spoke (Firenze winced a bit). Sorry about that. Then, he gave me a talk about waiting sixteen years for this glorious moment. Then, he used the killing curse... and the next thing I knew was that I was lying still on the floor, probably dead,"  
"Is that all?" queried Firenze.  
"Yes, that's all I can remember," answered Harry.  
"I see... Well, in the beginning, you wondered across the corridors of the eighth floor, am I correct?"  
"Yes,"  
"Perhaps this suggests that you'll somehow be lost, but looking for something. And when you looked around you, it meant that something you fear was waiting for you."  
"When you entered the room, was it really dark?" asked Firenze.  
"Yes, I couldn't have seen a thing," replied Harry.  
"Well, I think this means that you're days are growing darker and darker,"  
"What does that mean?"  
"You're reaching the end?"  
"End of what?"  
"Then end of this matter between you and the Dark Lord, that no one really understands," answered Firenze.  
"I understand now," said Harry, in a disappointed voice.  
" Did you say that dementors were present in the scene?" asked Firenze quickly.  
"Yes, ten of them at least," answered Harry.  
"Oh my...a group of people are searching for you. A group of people you never trusted and you always hated are willing to ... perhaps kill you...the servants of the Dark Lord Mr. Potter,"  
"Death Eaters!" Harry spoke nervously.  
"Exactly my dear," said Firenze, trying to calm Harry down, "then, the end of it was, your death?"  
"Yes,"   
"Dear me.. I ... I must stop here. Furthermore talking would risk the chances of you getting on with your day," said Firenze, turning his back to Harry. Harry got up, and walked closer to Firenze.  
"What? Why can't you talk a bit more?" asked Harry, touching Firenze's hand. Firenze's hand held Harry's, and he was patting him.  
"My dear Mr. Potter, possibly, you wouldn't understand it now...at this age," began Firenze, " if I continue talking, something bad will happen."  
"And what is that?" said Harry, pulling his hand gently out of Firenze's grip.  
Firenze was speechless.  
"Come on Professor, you've got to tell me,"  
"Why do you think that is necessary?" asked Firenze.  
"Because...because...then I'll know the truth about my future, I'll be able to do something to prevent the bad thing that's going to happen, even if it was my death,"  
"Mr. Potter, all the things I said were nothing more or less than my predictions. I cannot admit that I know the exact future, because no one knows. I think it's best if I don't continue on talking,"  
"I don't care what the things you've said are! I just want to know what's going to happen!" roared Harry furiously.  
"Perhaps...someday, you will know your fait," said Firenze softly.  
"Firenze, I'm begging you, tell me! I've escaped Voldemort five times now, why couldn't I do it again? Even if I had to suffer the great pains.. I want to..."  
"Mr. Potter, this is all I can say now. I cannot say anymore,"  
"Well, allright, perhaps Trelawney would've been able to explain this more. She loved predicting my death," said Harry angrily, going near the door.  
"It was nice meeting you again Mr. Potter. If you ever had something seen, something vague that you cannot understand, I'll be happy to help you. I'll always be here,"  
"Well...thank you," Harry stepped out of the classroom and was checking his watch. He totally forgot about the time. Fifteen more minutes were left till his first lesson began. So, he dashed to Gryffindor Common Room to get his supplies for the day, and accompanied Hermione and Ron to the classes.  
"Well, what did he say?" asked Ron.  
"Can't you wait till lunch?" replied Harry with a question.  
"No, " answered Hermione.  
" Well, he said something about my days growing darker, and me reaching the end of it,"  
"End of what?" asked Hermione. " Be more specific Harry."  
"Fine," muttered Harry. "He said that I'll be lost and looking for something that's been waiting for me. He also said that the dementors resembled a group of people I always hated coming nearer to me... Death Eaters. When he reached the end, he stopped. He said that he didn't want to continue on speaking. That's all. Satisfied now?"  
"Why didn't he want to continue on talking though?" asked Ron.  
"I don't know Ron," said Harry.  
"Whatever he was planning to say, must've been highly surprising and shocking to Harry" said Hermione.  
After that, they reached Hermione's Study of Ancient Runes class. Hermione waved goodbye to Harry and Ron and entered the class. Then, Harry walked with Ron till they reached Divination. Ron clapped Harry on the back, wished him a nice day, and went in. Harry was heading to his classroom, Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was to teach the Gryffindor and Slytherin second years now about the properties of Devil Cats, dark creatures that were highly dangerous if not handled properly.  
Harry was still mad about Firenze and angrier because he didn't know the exact truth. However, he at last, managed to get over it. The door stood before him, and he heard noises of students waiting for him inside. He got in, went to the front of the class, smiled at everyone, and the lesson began.


	14. Flying with Hermione

They were starving, really. They haven't had a single thing to eat or drink since breakfast; their tongues were dry as rock. Ron was eating two pieces of chicken legs, one was in the right hand, the other in the left. He was eating in turns. A bite from here, and a bite from there. Until...  
"Easy does it Weazel," spoke the cold voice of Draco Malfoy, "better slow down, or you'll be looking like your big fat mother in days." Crabbe and Goyle were laughing. Ron's ears got red. Malfoy, throughout their years at Hogwarts, always made fun of Ron's family. Being so poor, and all of them getting second hand supplies for school. But he didn't dare to wait anymore this time. Ron furiously got out of his seat, and dived on Malfoy. They were both knocked down to the ground, when Harry and Hermione interfered.  
"Ron, get up...it's not worth it," said Harry, trying to pull Ron away from Draco. He was punching him on the face, blood was coming down Draco's nostrils. Draco in turn punched Ron back on the eye. The fight kept going on, until Hermione at last did something...  
"_Reducto_!" she pointed her wand to Malfoy, and he was blasted several meters away from Ron. "Haven't I told you not to go pick a row with Malfoy?" She was asking Ron.  
Ron wasn't satisfied with Hermione, as though he's done something wrong.  
"He started it!" yelled Ron, Harry and Hermione had to cover their ears. "He doesn't miss a chance to make fun of my mother!" Then, Ron came closer to Malfoy, who was being helped up by Crabbe and Goyle. They were stunned, they've never seen such a fight. Malfoy's face was red, all covered in blood. So was Ron's face. Ron came closer.  
"Look here, you twisted lousy rich good for nothing git!" started Ron, he had a strong grip on Malfoy's tie. "One more word about my family, any word at all, and you'll pay. I might even strangle you to death! You hear me?"  
Ron has never ever been this angry or serious before. Malfoy nodded, and Harry and Hermione pulled Ron away from him. They were looking at Ron's face, horrified. Then, without any warning, Malfoy got up, pulled his wand, and ...  
"Stupefy!" He was aiming at Ron's back, to stun him. But Hermione was too quick for him. She took out her wand, and in seconds...  
"_Impedimenta_!" the jet red light was being slowed down. Draco looked up at her, very angry.  
"YOU HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD!" he screamed. Harry couldn't stand the insult anymore. He didn't even stop to think about it. He raised his fist, and BAM! Malfoy was knocked out, lying still on the ground.  
"You didn't need to do that," said Hermione, a horrific look on her face.  
"You're _welcome_," replied Harry, looking disgusted from the sight of the blood-covered Malfoy.  
"Let's take Ron to the Hospital Wing, look at all these injuries," said Harry, looking at the small bruise on top of Ron's left eyebrow.   
"Good idea," said Hermione. "What about him?" She was pointing to Malfoy.  
"He," began Harry," can lie down there like a crushed cockroach. Let the two blokes help him." The whole crowd in the Great Hall was shrieking, not believing Ron's and Malfoy's attitude. They were far more violent than ever.  
"Let me see now," began Harry, "Five points from Slytherin because of the insult he gave Ron. Five more for attempting to punch him back. Ten more for insulting you Hermione. I think that's all." Hermione and Ron were very pleased with Harry. It took them several minutes until they reached the Hospital Wing. Harry and Hermione left Ron there, five o'clock, he needed a lot of rest and heeling as Madam Pomfrey said. Then, when unfortunately Ron fell into a deep sleep, the two had no choice but to leave him there.  
After that, Harry and Hermione decided to do their Herbology homework under a tree beside the lake. It took them rather a very long time, like an hour and a half to complete it. This was because they had to mention lots and lots of details, and they were to give examples, lots of them. Of course, it was very easy to Hermione, but Harry had a difficult time. He kept watching Hermione's homework and copying some words into his. Unluckily for him, Hermione caught him. She demanded that he started the homework all over again. But she helped him anyway.  
Then, the two gathered their stuff, and went up the castle heading to their dormitories for a short nap before dinner. Hermione patted Harry on the head, and said goodbye, Harry did the same thing, and headed to the boy's dormitory.  
He entered, and saw that the room was perfectly empty, except for maybe Trevor, Neville's toad, and Hedwig, Harry's owl. He sat on his four-poster bed, and stretched. He was really tired, but he had no wish at all to sleep, because he knew that minutes later he'll be woken up for dinner. Harry kept rolling on his bed, until he caught a glimpse of something in his trunk. It was his old Firebolt, not the new Firebolt X6 that Dumbledore sent him. Harry got out of his bed, and careful not to trip, approached his trunk. He opened it, and took out the Firebolt. Now that he had the new fantastic Firebolt X6, he didn't know what to do with the Firebolt. He recalled the days when he had to use his dear old Firebolt. The match against Slytherin in third year, the day when he needed to summon it for his first task in fourth year, the day when he flew it all the way to Grimmauld Place before beginning fifth year… It was highly precious to him. Then, he remembered something important. The Quidditch season was approaching, and the Gryffindor team hasn't decided which people to select as beaters, chasers, and a keeper. Harry was sort of disappointed. Then, he had a wonderful idea... He thought of giving Hermione his old Firebolt as a birthday present (although he totally forgot about her birthday being on September). Then, he would get her to join the team, and take whatever position she wanted. He could train her of course for several weeks before the first match of the season. But then, he remembered that Hermione wasn't good that much in Quidditch, and was a bit lousy at flying a broomstick. Anyway, he decided to give it a shot. He opened his Broomstick Serving Kit, his thirteenth birthday present from Hermione, and polished the Firebolt. It was shining like the sun! Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak, and put it on the Firebolt so that it would be invisible. Then, he went out of the boy's dormitory, and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. He was eating so fast, just hoping for time to pass by as quick as it can. Ron of course was back, after sleeping for 4 hours and a half. He was still dizzy, and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs could clearly see the injuries on his face, a souvenir from the fight he had with Malfoy. At last, dinner ended, and the students were dismissed. Harry went to the front table that contained the teachers, and wished to speak to Professor Dumbledore.  
"Professor, could I tell you something?" asked Harry.  
"Certainly Harry, but be quick please, got to go to the Ministry, lots of work. For years I've rejected being the Minister of Magic, I can't see why I didn't this time" answered Professor Dumbledore, smiling.   
"Yes...um...well, the Quidditch season is approaching, and I wanted to take your permission Professor...for...erm.. reinforcing the Gryffindor team," said Harry.  
"You do as you wish, my dear Harry," spoke Dumbledore.  
"Thanks sir," replied Harry politely.  
"And now, I've got to go Harry," and Dumbledore walked away.  
Harry was running to his seat on the Gryffindor table, grabbed the invisible Firebolt that was hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak, and joined Hermione and Ron for a walk, until they reached the Fat Lady's portrait.  
"Password?" she asked.  
"Peace," replied Hermione at once. Immeadietly, the door opened, and they stepped inside. Ron went straight up to the boy's dormitory. So did everybody else except for Harry and Hermione.  
"Goodnight," said Ron, yawning.  
"Sleep tight," answered Harry, laughing quietly. Now, he had his chance to speak to Hermione before she went to sleep.  
"Um...Hermione. Could I have a word with you?"   
"Ok," she answered.  
"Well...I know that you may think this is mental, but...um...well.. I forgot that your birthday was in September, and I only remembered a few hours ago...so...I decided to give you a decent present...well…happy birthday!" Harry took the invisibility cloak off the shining Firebolt, and was presenting it to Hermione. She sighed.  
"Harry! This is wonderful! It's very kind of you really, but ...you'll have to keep it,"  
"What? Why?" asked Harry.  
"Well...I don't say that this is not awesome, but...well,... the Firebolt belongs to you, and if you give it away, what will you be riding on the Quidditch matches?"  
"My Firebolt X6," answered Harry proudly.  
"Your what? Was that supposed to be a joke?" asked Hermione in disbelief.  
"I know, I haven't told anybody to keep it as a surprise. Professor Dumbledore sent it to me during summer,"  
"Well...um...congratulations!" said Hermione, with a wide smile on her face.  
"So, will you take it?" asked Harry.  
"Harry, please , you must understand..."  
"For me?" asked Harry desperately.   
"Oh allright," said Hermione.  
"Yes," muttered Harry happily.  
"Hang on, this must be for a reason Harry. Why are you giving me your Firebolt?" asked Hermione suspiciously. Harry was absolutely speechless. He wanted to tell her that he wanted her on the Quidditch team, now that Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, and Alicia Spinnet have left Hogwarts.  
"Are you trying to get me on the Gryffindor team?" asked Hermione again.  
"Yes," answered Harry finally, rather heavily.  
"Hold it, now you're going too far, you know how lousy I am at flying a broom, besides..."  
"I can help you with that. I'll teach you how to fly a broomstick, all the basics. If you're good at our daily subjects, why couldn't you be on Quidditch?"  
"Because I don't have your talent Harry," answered Hermione sincerely.  
"Who cares about my talent? Look Hermione, I'm begging you, I'm very desperate. We need to reinforce the Gryffindor Quidditch team as soon as possible. I asked Dumbledore about it, he..."  
"Ok, relax, it's fine with me," answered Hermione, calming Harry down.  
" You...you...you actually agree to be on the team?" asked Harry, so excited.  
"Yes, but it will be your responsibility, if anything goes wrong I mean," said Hermione, smiling.  
"Oh...thank you so much!" said Harry, and he hugged her. "Hey, what about taking the Chaser's position Hermione? Does that seem good to you?"  
"Yeah," answered Hermione. "Listen, could we start training now?"

"What? Now? But, it's getting dark,"  
"And what is the invisibility cloak for?" asked Hermione, grinning.  
"Oh...ok. So, were would you want us to practice?" said Harry.  
"Over the greenhouses would be cool,"  
"Righto," said Harry. He went upstairs, and careful not to make a noise, opened his trunk, and took out his new Firebolt X6. When he came down, he showed it to Hermione. She was stunned by the perfect broom.  
After that, he put the invisibility cloak on them, and went out to reach the greenhouses. He grabbed a ball, that was lying still besides greenhouse two. Possibly, it could've been lost or something.  
"So, remember how to mount a broom?" asked Hermione.  
"Yes," Immediately, she mounted her new Firebolt and was rising some inches in the air.  
"Quite impressive," said Harry, smiling. "So, you said you'll be a chaser, right?"  
"Right," answered Hermione.  
"Well, you have to keep one thing in mind. Being a chaser means that you've got to be skillful in passing between your opponents, and careful about the Quaffle not to be taken from you."  
"As a start, I'll give you the ball, you try and get past me, and throw it to this circle," he, using his wand, drew a bright yellow circle on the wall.  
"Ready?" asked Harry.  
"Ready," said Hermione.  
At once, he threw the ball to her. Now, they were about fifty feet above the ground.  
"You'd better hold on to your broom well Hermione. Easy when you turn around," yelled Harry, he was ten meters away from Hermione. Then, the training started, he zoomed through the air, heading towards Hermione. She didn't turn around, instead, she fancied going up. Her Firebolt was accelerating at a very high speed, so was Harry's. He was now coming closer to her, closer, he stretched out his hand to grab the ball, but Hermione did something clever. She rose up in the air, and turned in a curved away upside down. She was beneath Harry.  
"Clever move," complimented Harry. "What are you waiting for? Go! You must score, not wait for your opponent to take the ball from you!"  
Obediently, Hermione descended very fast. She was nearing the yellow circle on the wall, she raised the ball into the air, and...  
Harry took it form her quickly before she even tried to throw it.  
"Got to be more careful," said Harry.  
"Ok," said Hermione.  
"Players usually look around them, constant vigilance is very important if you're a chaser. Try looking around you next time,"  
Moments later, Harry handed Hermione the ball, and started again. For five more times, she failed to throw the ball. Hermione was crying now, she sort of thought of giving up.  
"Now Hermione, cheer up. I was even lousier than you when I began Quidditch training in first year. Don't give up easily," he was comforting her, while the two were sitting on their brooms.  
Hermione rubbed a tear off, and said:  
"I shall try harder. Quidditch isn't easy as I thought it would be,"  
"Ready?" asked Harry. "Right, now you try get the ball from me, and throw it at the circle." At once, Harry was zooming in the air. Hermione was right behind him. There was just a little difference in the two brooms' speed. Successfully, Hermione grabbed the ball, and turned around. Descending, even lower. She raised her hand, and threw the ball directly to the circle. She did it at last! She scored!  
"At last," said Hermione cheerfully. She sort of lost her balance, she was fighting to stay on the Firebolt.  
"Uh oh," she said, looking scared. She slipped off, and fell.  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaah," screamed Hermione in horror. Harry rushed throughout the air; he was near the ground, when Hermione safely landed on his arms.  
"Wow!" he said. Hermione didn't believe what just happened, Harry saved her life. He summoned the Firebolt, and gave it back to Hermione.  
"Thanks for that," said Hermione, and gave him a spontaneously-conjured, soft kiss on the cheek. He blushed for a moment, and then smiled at her. "You really are wonderful!"  
"Really impressive Hermione, not bad at all for a beginner,"  
"I couldn't have done it without your instructions and advice," replied Hermione gratefully. Then, the two were walking up to the castle, of course, invisible under the Invisibility Cloak. They had such a nice, wonderful, terrific, and magnificent time together.


	15. Reinforcment of the Team

Harry and Hermione had just reached the most direct path to the dormitories, until they heard a happy voice, Peeves' voice.  
Peeves came hurrying towards Harry and Hermione which were both perfectly invisible, not one of them made a voice. But Harry had sort of a funny feeling, something scratching his nose, he was going to sneeze, but thanks to Hermione, she held her hand over his mouth. Harry thanked her after that. But Peeves heard this little noise, he turned around, looked, but he didn't see anyone.  
"Oi, out with it, who's there?" he asked in a trembling voice. "Is it the great Bloody Baron sir?" Harry and Hermione always knew that the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost, could be invisible at will. They also knew that the only person that was able to control Peeves was the Bloody Baron. Harry once used this trick, to get Peeves out of the way, some years ago.  
"Who...who...who is it?" asked Peeves, very scared.  
Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione, under the cloak, were thinking of someway to get past Peeves without him sensing any movement. Harry had an idea, but Hermione didn't much prefer it. Carefully, he raised his wand, and pointed it towards a statue several meters ahead of him, and with one wave, it fell down, causing a lot of annoying noise. Peeves was totally freaked out. He was rising in the air, thinking that something might be after him.   
"MR FILCH, MR FILCH, MR FILCH...COME HERE QUICKLY, INTRUDER!" screamed Peeves. Harry and Hermione quickly moved away, and climbed the staircase. Then, far away behind them, they heard Filch coming along with his precious cat, Mrs. Norris.  
"What do ya want you stinking trouble maker? Better be something worth comin' here or I'll call the headmaster," grunted Mr. Filch angrily.  
"I heard some sort of voice Filch, and then, seconds later, I heard that statue falling down, there, look at the broken pieces," he pointed towards the silver statue of a little witch that was broken on the ground.  
"Ah for God sake, calling me up here just for this," said Filch, very lazily. "Off with ya Peeves. Off with ya now. Go on, go before I call the headmaster, go!"  
Peeves immediately flew away, heading towards the Entrance Hall. Filch was approaching the broken statue now with Mrs. Norris, and tried as hard as he can to lift it up. He took the broken pieces and put them in the hole in the head of the little witch statue. He was patting Mrs. Norris.  
"I shall tell the headmaster about this tomorrow, I bet ya anything it was Peeves who did this," by that he meant breaking the statue.  
"Pathetic squib," whispered Harry under the cloak.  
Harry and Hermione giggled, then went near the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
"Been sneaking out of the castle you two?" asked the Fat Lady.  
"Peace," whispered Harry at once.  
"Fine," replied the Fat Lady, and both of them entered.  
"Goodnight Harry," said Hermione, climbing up the stairs. Harry was right behind her.  
"Night," he replied, and went to bed. 

Next morning, Harry woke up with full energy, ready to start the day. He still laughed about the incident last night. The way Filch was mad about Peeves, sending him away, the usual threatening of calling the headmaster.  
His first lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts, Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth years.

After breakfast, he, Hermione and Ron marched off to the classroom. Ron was still reading the Daily Prophet Mrs. Weasley sent him.  
"Careful not to trip Ron," said Harry.  
"What? Oh...right,"  
They entered the classroom. Hermione and Ron sat on either side of their fellow Gryffindor sixth year, Neville Longbottom. Harry went to the front of the class.  
"Good morning everyone," he said happily.  
"Morning," replied most of the class, of course, not including Malfoy's gang of Slytherins.  
"Well, today, we shall start something new, that could come in handy when a curse is being directed to you," started Harry and grabbed his wand. "The Shield Charm."  
Everyone seemed quite intrigued by this statement. Many of the Gryffindors who were members of the DA last year, remembered Harry talking about the Shield Charm several times.  
"Right," started Harry, "first we'll do it without the use of the wand. Ah, the incantation of course. Everyone reply after me. _Protego_,"  
"_Protego_," came the voices of students from every corner of the class.   
"Excellent, and now, let me explain how this works. The shield charm is supposed to form some sort of layer or barrier between you and the enemy, just like...for those who know, the Patronus charm," Everyone was listening carefully now. The members of the DA had already practiced Patronus charms last year, although there weren't any dementors present, they enjoyed the silvery shadow that came out of their wands whenever they pronounced _'expecto patronum'_.  
"At the beginning, it may seem sort of tough for you, but then, don't worry, you'll perform perfectly fine after you master it," said Harry, smiling at every face in the class. Malfoy was yawning; he didn't seem to be interested in the lesson. Harry's eyes flew from the Gryffindors to the Slytherins and fell on the yawning Malfoy.  
"Draco, up here please," said Harry earnestly.  
"What?" asked Malfoy, his mouth wide open.  
"I asked you to come up here please," replied Harry strictly.  
Malfoy got up, shot Harry some angry looks, and approached the class. Malfoy was waiting for Harry to keep on talking.  
"Now, I'll demonstrate how this is done. Draco here will help me with it. He will stun me, with the spell we practiced a month ago, stupefy. Then, watch closely what happens," Harry turned his face to Malfoy. "Ready?"  
Malfoy nodded. Immediately, he raised his wand, pointed it to Harry, and cried loudly 'stupefy'.  
Harry was quick too. Within fractions of a second, he cried out loud '_Protego_'. At once, some sort of silvery translucent shield appeared out of thin air. The jet red light hit the shield and bounced back. Malfoy was fast in bending his head low, avoiding being stunned. The jet red light hit a vase, and broke it.  
"See everyone?" asked Harry. The class was amazed by his perfect performance.  
"Now, the reverse. Draco will be defending himself using the shield charm," proclaimed Harry clearly. "Oh, don't worry about that. Hermione, could you fix it please?" Harry asked Hermione to repair the broken vase.   
"Reparo," said Hermione quickly, and the broken pieces put themselves back together. The vase was there again, fine as new.  
"Thanks," said Harry, and turned his head to Malfoy, "ready now?"  
Malfoy grinned and nodded.   
"Right, stupefy," a jet red light zoomed came out of Harry's wand and zoomed towards Malfoy.  
"Protego," he cried aloud. It worked too, the light bounced off the shield and returned to Harry.  
"Deletrius," muttered Harry quickly, and the stunning spell vanished with a wisp of smoke.  
"Excellent work Draco. Five points to Slytherin, I hope you get even better next time" Malfoy's grin widened, he raised his eyebrows higher that they almost reached his hair, and he raised his head higher. The whole class was clapping and applauding, even Hermione and Ron, who perfectly hated and despised Malfoy more than anything, except perhaps Voldemort. Malfoy returned to his seat, joining Crabbe and Goyle.  
"Now, as we only have thirty six minutes to the end of the class, I was planning to put you in pairs to try the shield charm yourselves. However, I don't think you're ready yet. And remember it's for your own good if you practice it. As for now, I changed the plan. Everyone, kindly open your copy of ' Force Your Way through the Dark Paths', and turn to page forty two, the beginning of chapter six. Please read the chapter carefully, and for homework, list the main important points you've learned about. And for those who want bonus points, summarize the next chapter," explained Harry. He knew of course that Hermione would do anything for more and more points.  
Obediently, everyone in the class opened their books to chapter six and started reading. Neville shrieked, and looked worried.  
"It's allright Neville, don't freak out. I know the chapter's a bit long, but you'll be able to finish reading it and you'll be able to do the homework, even with a bit of help," Neville was a little embarrassed, he nodded, and began to read.

At last the bell rang, and everyone quickly got out of their seats, heading towards the door.  
"Oh," yelled Harry, "Gryffindors, please meet me at five o'clock in the common room. There's something important I wish to talk to you about." Several Gryffindors nodded and disappeared through the door.  
"Harry, what do you want us for?" asked Ron.  
"You'll see," said Harry, "you're due in Divination. Go Ron, I have a class coming now."  
"See you," said Ron, and marched off. Hermione was already at her Arithmancy class.

At last, their final lesson of the day, double Herbology, ended. Harry, Hermione and Ron decided to visit Hagrid, they haven't seen him for a while. They crossed the castle grounds, which were very cold and wet due to the rain that soaked the grounds several hours earlier, heading to Hagrid's hut, which was located near the edge of the Dark Forest.  
Harry knocked on the door.  
"Who is it?" came the grunting voice of Hagrid.  
"It's us," replied Hermione.  
"Oh, come in, glad yeh came,"  
The door opened, and the trio stepped in. Hagrid offered them some tea to warm them up. Then, they've noticed that the hut was sparking, very shiny. Everything was very well organized, as it never has been lately.   
"Hagrid, um...have you been doing a lot of cleaning lately?" asked Ron curiously.  
" Yeah, yeh can say that. Just piling me cups on the shelves, and a bit of dusting. Fang helped me though, with a small version of the cleanin'. So, how was your day?" asked Hagrid.  
"Fine," replied Harry.  
"We had a wonderful practical lesson with Harry, about shield charms," said Hermione.  
"Yeah, really great," said Ron quickly.  
"Shield charms?" asked Hagrid, "They're quite useful, someday, yeh'll need 'um," The three nodded.   
"I've got something to talk about you three. Cockatoodles,"   
"Sorry?" asked the three together, looking curious and bewildered.  
"Cockatoodles. Fascinating creatures, wait till yeh seem them. We'll be studying them next lesson," said Hagrid, beaming. "They sort a' have the front body of a rooster, and the hind legs of a crocodile."  
"That'll look extremely weird, " said Ron, grinning at Harry and Hermione.  
"Yeah, yeh can say that. But wait till you see, amazing powers they've got, one is..." but Hagrid was interrupted by Harry. who looked at his watch, it was 4:49.  
"Um...Hagrid…sorry.. but we've got to go," said Harry.  
"Yeh wanna go already?" asked Hagrid.  
"Yeah...we've got a meeting in the common room," explained Hermione.  
"Meeting? What sort o' meeting?" asked Hagrid.  
"Well,erm..." began Ron, looking nervously at Harry.  
"Allright, yeh three go ahead, or yeh'll be late and yeh'll be breaking yer promise," said Hagrid cheerfully. At once, the three got out of their places, waved goodbye to Hagrid and Fang, and got out. They ran difficultly, because they were carrying their heavy bags. Finally, after seven minutes of running, they reached the Fat Lady. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were fighting to catch their breath. Harry spoke the password before the Fat Lady could've even say a word. The door sprang open, and they found the common room filled with students from sixth year.  
"Oh, hello, glad we're not late, " said Ron. The three set their bags on an armchair. Ron went to sit beside Dean and Seamus. Hermione sat near Parvati. Harry, in the front, near the fire, began to speak.  
"Well, the point of this meeting is...um...well it's October right? And haven't you notice something? The Quidditch season is approaching faster than ever! I wanted to remind you of that,"  
Everybody was looking at each other. They totally forgot about this matter.  
"Why haven't reminded us about this any earlier Harry?" asked Dean.  
"Well, I like you, have forgot about it," replied Harry, Dean nodded. "So, we will reinforce the Quidditch team for Gryffindor, now that Wood, Johnson, Bell, Spinnet, Weasley, and Weasley have left, only I remain in the team. So, who would like to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year?"   
Hermione raised her hand, so did Ron, so did Neville.  
"Cool," said Harry. " Well, have it this way, Hermione will be a chaser, so will Neville, and I'm not sure, but I think Ginny will agree to be one."  
Everyone listened carefully.  
" Volunteers for beaters?" asked Harry, looking around the group.  
For moments, nobody raised their hand. Then, Parvati and Lavender raised their hands.  
"Excellent, perfect," complimented Harry, the two girls giggled and lowered their hand, "and, we need a keeper too. Ah, Ron, I forgot you. Would you agree to be the Keeper?"  
"Yes," answered Ron happily. "Remember me as the keeper last year?"  
"I can remember that allright," said Seamus. "Remember the Slytherins making a song about you, 'Weasley is our King'?"  
"Oh shut up," said Ron, laughing quietly. Harry laughed too. Ron blushed a bit.  
"Good," said Harry, "and one seeker, me."   
Several of the Gryffindors laughed.  
"Ok, so let me repeat what just happened. Three chasers, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny, who I'll talk to later. Two beaters, that's Lavender and Parvati. One keeper, that's your Ron. And...one seeker, me."   
Everyone nodded gladly.  
"Right then, when would you like the training to begin?" asked Harry.  
"On Saturday of course," replied Parvati and Lavender together.  
"I say let it be Sunday," said Ron.  
"Wait a minute, all who agree for the training to begin on Saturday raise there hands,"   
Only a few hands were up.  
"That's settled, training will begin on Saturday, the earlier the better," said Harry, smiling. Ron was a bit put down and disappointed from his luck, it always happened to him, he got used to it. Then, Harry was reminded of something.  
"Who here have their own brooms?" asked Harry.  
Hermione, Ron, Parvati, and Lavender raised their hands.   
"Right, we'll need to get you a new broom Neville, and one for Ginny. Don't worry, I'll get them for you,"  
"No Harry, it's…it's ok.. I have---" began Neville, stuttering.  
"It's allright, let's get you the new Comet three hundred, shall we? And for Ginny...what do you say Ron?"  
Ron of course was Ginny's sister, he knew what she would prefer.  
" I suggest a...well…um…she prefers a Nimbus two thousand and one," answered Ron.  
"Ok," said Harry, he knew that the Slytherins' brooms were Nimbus two thousand and one's. "Any more questions?"  
The whole group shook their heads. 

"Allright, this is settled, welcome aboard to the new Gryffindor Quidditch team you five," said Harry, looking at Hermione, Lavender, Ron, Parvati and Neville.  
The entire group laughed.  
Suddenly, they turned to look at someone who's just entered, it was Ginny.  
"Ginny, Ginny come here," said Ron. Ginny approached the group, not knowing what was going on.   
"What? Why are you all gathered here?" she asked curiously, and Hermione explained everything.  
"So, will you be a chaser on the team?" asked Harry finally.  
"Gladly," replied Ginny.  
"Oh, and I thought you might want to have a new broom. How about a Nimbus two thousand and one?" asked Harry.  
Ginny beamed at him, it was what she always wished for.  
"That'll be fabulous...awesome," said Ginny.  
"Oh, wait, I nearly forgot. Who would you want as your captain this year?" asked Harry.  
"Well that's obvious, it's going to be you, won't it?" asked Hermione, smiling at him.  
"But...well I've been made the leader of the DA last year, I got to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, wouldn't you think of anybody else?"  
"Come on Harry, you've always been a great leader and you'll always will be," said Ron.  
"Well...fine with me, does anyone reject this?" asked Harry. Nobody nodded.  
"Well, this it, the meeting's over everybody," said Harry, " go on and finish off your...well, whatever business each one of you has." He giggled, so did Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.  
Harry and Hermione went over the corner to enjoy a short game of Gobstones, Dean Thomas, who was always know for his artistic talent, went over by Seamus and helped draw a picture of Harry, wearing his red Quidditch robes, waving at the audience at the Quidditch Stadium. Ginny and Parvati were playing chess. Ron and Lavender were reviewing each others' Transfiguration homework. Neville was showing a fifth year boy his new plant that Professor Sprout gave him as a gift for his submitting of information during classes.  
It was such an amusing afternoon.


	16. Separatus Fluy

"Wake up Harry, come on, better hurry up because I'm starving," Ron was waking Harry up.  
Harry pulled the blanket off, and put his feet on the ground. He still remembered what happened in the meeting last night. He recalled himself reminding the group of the approaching Quidditch season, also, he recalled the moment where he asked for volunteers to play the positions of chasers, beaters, and one keeper on the team. Another thing he remembered was when he offered them a chance of selecting a team-captain other than him, but anyway, he got selected. Harry was completely satisfied that he'd done his job.  
Harry joined Hermione and Ron for breakfast. Having said that he was starving, Ron grabbed three plates and filled them with kippers, eggs, bacon, porridge, and toast. Harry was laughing at the way Ron was stuffing a bite of every meal into his mouth, then having it look like it was inflated to be the size of two tennis balls. Ron found a hard time chewing the food and swallowing it. Hermione was laughing too.  
Suddenly, hooting of owls filled the Great Hall. It was filled with owls now that usually carried students' mails, owls that were reddish-brownish, brown, grey, and even white. Harry had no letter or package from anyone, however, Ron as usual got the Daily Prophet from home. Hermione had a copy of the Daily Prophet, and then saw a small letter secured in a parcel. She took it off Sweetum's left leg, Sweetums was her owl that she bought in the beginning of summer. She opened the letter, read the first two lines, and...

There was a shocking expression that filled her face. Her eyes were opened, so was her mouth.

_Dear Hermy-own-ninny,  
I hope you are fine right now. I voud like to tell you a good piece of news. I got married to a girl named Ziggy. She's as pretty as you are. It wasn't my fault, my parents were too concerned about me getting married; zey didn't vant to vait anymore years. I know how you may feel now, but, I vould like to tell you this also, you vere the best friend I haff ever had, Hermy-own-ninny, ever since I came to 'Ogwarts to compete against Harry! Good luck.  
_

_Viktor Krum.  
_

When Hermione finished reading, she had a fleeting small narrow smile on her face which vanished straight away. She sort of looked disappointed and happy at the same time. Hermione put the letter away, and stared at her plate, lost for actions and words.  
"Who is it from Hermione?" asked Harry, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.  
"It was from---Viktor," she sort of hesitated, then spoke ," he told me that----he got--he got married." Ron choked with the piece of bacon at that word, and Harry had offered him some juice. Hermione looked at them both.

"I know, this must be greatly shocking," began Hermione, with a small tear dangling from her eyelashes, " he then said that I was his best friend, ever since he came here for the tournament in fourth year."  
Harry and Ron, who were both startled by this stunning news, stared at each other.  
"Don't worry about him Hermione, the nasty old dingbat," said Ron, furiously.  
"Yeah, don't mind him," Harry went on, "if he was able to find the one (by that, he meant the most suitable girl), you should---someday--I hope."  
"Thanks guys," said Hermione, now more comfortable.  
Hermione smiled at them, rubbed the tear off her face, and the three of them got out of their seats, to attend their first lesson, Charms.

Tiny Professor Flitwick was already there when they arrived, sitting over twelve books to get a clear view of students. Now, several students appeared through the door, sixth years from Hufflepuff and sixth year Gryffindors. Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table near Dean, Parvati, and Neville, their fellow Gryffindor sixth years.

"Come in class, busy lesson today," squeaked Professor Flitwick. Harry knew what this meant; whenever Flitwick said the class was going to be busy, it always was practical.

"Everyone here?" asked Flitwick. " Right. Today, we will be learning a charm that can be very useful, if by any chance, you were drowning. It's called the dividing charm, and it only works with liquids, such as water. Its function is supposed to divide the water into two groups, in other words, separating the two."  
Everybody seemed to be intrigued and interested by that topic. Harry, Hermione, and Ron stared at each other.  
"I know this charm," whispered Hermione to the two, " it was mentioned in the Standard Book of Spells Grade Six, I suppose in chapter eight or nine."  
"Now, who here knows the incantation that is said to perform this spell?" asked Flitwick clearly.  
Naturally, Hermione raised her hand. So did Ron, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and to the class's amazement, Neville.  
"Mr. Longbottom?"  
"I read about it the Standard Book of Spells, somewhere in chapters seven to nine, I think---it's---um---_Aparatuss Fluid_, that's it," answered Neville, uncertainly.  
Flitwick laughed a bit.  
"Close enough my dear boy," began Flitwick, "Miss Granger, would you kindly correct him?"  
"Separatus Fluy," answered Hermione at once.  
"Excellent, ten points to Gryffindor," Flitwick went on, "uh...five more points for Neville having a close enough guess."  
Neville went red. Harry and Ron gave Hermione and Neville a thumbs up.  
"Right, now you know the incantation. Beside that, we need to know the proper wand movement to perform the charm correctly. The movement of the wand has to be circular, and quick, everyone."  
The whole class, raised their wands, and waved it circularly and quickly, just as Professor Flitwick had shown them.  
"Fabulous," complimented Professor Flitwick, and then continued on," other than that, there's still one missing step, probably the most important of all the steps to do this dividing charm, you sill have to----"  
He was distracted by Anthony Giffins, a sixth year Hufflepuff, who has raised his hand up.  
"Yes?"  
" I think I know the answer, Professor. In order to complete the steps needed to perform this charm, you need to--um----well, I think that you---yes, you need to shut your eyes, and concentrate hard on the scene of you dividing water or whatever liquid into two, and---that's all,"  
Flitwick and the class raised their eyebrows.  
"Perfect, ten points to Hufflepuff," said Flitwick, the Hufflepuffs were cheering, " as Mr. Griffins has said here, you need to form a clear image in your head. It's like you're in fact in this painting. You must really concentrate as hard as you can to see your way through the liquid."  
Several students were bewildered. They didn't quite understand the statement ' see your way through the liquid'.  
"Now, a clear demonstration," declared Flitwick, and he got off the twelve thick textbooks he was standing on. He went in front of his desk, and his hands were in a box. He had reached for a cute little hamster. Beside it, was a water tank.  
Professor Flitwick placed the water tank on a student's table, with his help of course.  
"Now, as you all can see, this tank is full of water. I have placed a piece of cheese in the end here. When I place the hamster inside, it will of course start to drown. Then, I shall perform the dividing charm, and the hamster shall easily find its dry way through the water and reach the cheese,"  
Everybody was excited.  
He slowly took the hamster from its little tail, and dropped it in the water tank. It was struggling to get out. Then, Professor Flitwick raised his wand. For moments, he closed his eyes, clearly painting a clear vivid picture of dividing the water and separating it into two groups. Then, he waved it quickly in a circular move, and squeaked : Separatus Fluy. At once, something cool happened.  
There was a pink line forming in the middle of the water surface. It shone brighter now. Slowly, the line has formed a division between the whole amount of water, which was now being separated from the other side of water. It was something the class never saw before in their lives. The hamster was now standing on the dry bottom of the tank. It turned around for a second, then started to move its nose, apparently sniffing the cheese's smell. It worked within short moments; the hamster moved towards the cheese and began to bite it.  
The entire class was now sighing. And then, the clapping began from Harry, Hermione, and Ron's table. The clapping was now stronger. Soon, the applause were shaking the room. Then, a minute later, the cheering and clapping began to subside, growing less, less, and less.  
"So, has everybody seen what just happened?" asked Flitwick.  
The whole class nodded.  
"Very well then, you've got the idea. Remember, you must concentrate on forming a clear vivid detailed picture of the division of the liquid. Later on, we'll learn similar charms, that might even divide the liquid into fourths, sixths, eighths, and maybe even tenths," said Flitwick.  
"As for now, you may have noticed the water tanks that are placed in the back of this classroom. I want you all to pair up, and I will come around, and distribute the animals and food on each pair. You are to do the dividing charm. A maximum of seven minutes for each turn," Flitwick reached a huge box which contained lots of tiny animals, and began to move around the class, distributing them on the pairs.   
Harry and Hermione got a water tank, and got a yellow canary for an animal, and some canary seeds for its food. Hermione was the first one to try the charm. She indeed succeeded. Harry was amazed by the awesome work.  
"Very nice, that was terrific and brilliant," said Harry.  
Hermione smiled at him, "Thank you Harry, it's very kind of you to say that. Will you try it now?"  
"Of course," replied Harry. Then, he took the canary out of the water tank, and waited for the water to come back to its original state. He waited a bit more, and then placed the canary back inside. The little bird was moving its wings, fighting its way up before it was too late. At once, Harry began to form the clear picture in his mind. It took him rather a few moments; he forgot that birds can't breathe under water. Quickly, he got a perfect shot of the scene. He raised his wand, waved it circularly, and muttered: Separatus Fluy.   
It happened!

A jet of pink light came out his wand, and travelled through the tank's wall, and into the inside. Then he saw it; a line was slowly dividing the water into two. The left side was separated from the right side. The canary almost drowned and died. It didn't even go to the seed, however, it directly flapped its wings, and flew out of the tank. Hermione caught it in the right time though.  
"Aaah, a small lapse," said Harry, sticking is wand back in his robes.  
"Good job though Harry, you were really fantastic. When the bird flew out, I suppose it was because it took you rather a long time to form the picture in your mind, "  
"Thanks," said Harry, smiling at her.  
At once, the bell rang, and the students were now moving out of their places to get out. Ron, who was partnered with Lavender, returned the guinea pig that they used as their animal to try the charm.  
"Great lesson huh? Plus, no homework!" said Ron to Harry and Hermione.   
"Yeah, I guess so," answered Harry, "but will we ever need it? I mean---why would we drown? It's not like the castle is filled with water, is it?"  
"I don't know," declared Hermione, "but never underestimate destiny Harry. It may come in handy some day."  
"You're right," said Harry, and soon, they were out of the castle, heading to Care of Magical Creatures.


	17. Cockatoodles

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were nearing the Entrance Door to the castle so that they get out and head directly to Care of Magical Creatures class, when...  
"Wheeeeeeeeee," said a funny high pitched voice. It came from above.  
It was Peeves, the poltergeist, dropping water balloons and dungbombs on some second year girls. They were soaked with plenty of water, and looked very miserable. Harry looked up at him.  
"Master of Disaster," at those words, Ron laughed, "picking on some girls again?"  
However, Peeves continuing on causing chaos and the distraction that he usually made.  
"The joker," muttered Hermione softly, shooting Peeves a disappointed look.  
Ron was checking his wristwatch.  
"Come on folks, or we'll be late," he said quickly.

The three got out of the castle, still hearing the voice of Peeves's chaos. Before them, stood the tall thin trees of the Dark Forest. Hagrid was just coming out of his little hut, dragging Fang back inside and feeding him some dog food.  
The Slytherins were soon arriving, and they were extremely bored. They never ever like Hagrid, not one bit, just because he was a friend of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, and another reason was because he was a half giant, and his mother, Fridwulfa, killed innocent people, (that's what Rita Skeeter said in Harry's fourth year).

"Gather 'round fellows," yelled Hagrid, "interestin' lesson comin' up." Hagrid made sure every student was present, and then he came forward, beaming at them. Draco Malfoy shot him cold looks, and sighed, waiting for the lesson to begin.  
"Right," grunted Hagrid heavily, "now, this lesson, ya'll be taught about some fascinatin' creatures, by the name o' Cockatoodles."   
Expressions of misunderstanding, confusion, bewilderment, and startling spread through the class, especially the Slytherins.  
"What was that again?" asked Malfoy in a rude way.  
"Cockatoodles Malfoy, that's what I said," replied Hagrid. " Ya kids wait here till I get the Cockatoodles from beside the lake." Hagrid left the class to fetch the creatures.  
Several students were in conversations about Hagrid's obsession with monstrous creatures, wondering what Cockatoodles will look like.  
"Calling us kids," began Malfoy with a wicked grin on his face, "and who does he think he is? The great big half-breed oaf."  
Crabbe and Goyle were giggling greatly, so did some other Slytherins.   
Unfortunately, Ron heard him. He remembered the fight he had with Malfoy, and he clearly recalled the moment when he was sitting on him, punching his whole face, which was covered in red blood. His whole face reddened, and he attempted to step towards Malfoy and injure him badly, but...  
"Ron! Stop!" said Hermione earnestly.  
"Ron, control yourself. Don't go pick a row with Malfoy," said Harry. "You do remember what happened last time when you fought with him, don't you?"  
"I surely do," said Ron angrily," and I give anything, and I mean anything, for it to happen again."  
He still was trying to get out of Harry and Hermione's strong grip, resisting them holding him back, but it didn't work. Malfoy stared at him coolly.  
"Let me at him!" screamed Ron.  
"Ron, knock it off, come on, we can't afford to have a fight now, the lesson hasn't begun yet," said Harry, holding Ron back. "Allright, you can get him next time Ron, but please, not now."  
"The slimy git," declared Ron, finally stepping back.  
"Oh, look," said Hermione, pointing at some things coming their way. The Slytherins turned their heads too, when they heard the cries of roosters.  
And there they were. Eight Cockatoodles crawled in front of Hagrid, just as he described them. They had front bodies of roosters, and hind legs and bodies of crocodiles. They also had wings, and they were about two and half feet tall.  
"Ya like 'em?" asked Hagrid cheerfully.  
"Whoa, Hagrid!" said Ron, shocked. "What sort of creatures are they?"  
"Like I told ya, these are Cockatoodles," staring at the eight Cockatoodles, which were still making ugly, irresistible sounds of rooster cries.  
The Slytherins covered their ears with their hands, because the sound was too loud and annoying. Neville nearly fainted. His ear as usual couldn't resist so much loud noise. A proof of that was when he fainted due to hearing the Mandrake cries in Herbology in second year. Luckily though, the Cockatoodles were all hushed up eventually.   
Sandra Sanderson, a Slytherin girl, noticed some smoke coming out of one Cockatoodle's nostrils.  
"It's on---fire---something inside its beak is burning," she shrieked.  
Hagrid was laughing at her.  
"What?" she asked, puzzled.  
"It's in their nature ter to do it. Probably, ya don't know any of the properties of those beauties. They can breathe fire Miss Sanderson," at those words, she fell to the floor, not believing what she just heard.  
It was enough for Hogwarts to have fire-breathing dragons in Harry's fourth year to complete the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Students clearly remembered the sight of the four grown up, vicious looking, big dragons. It caused fear beyond any fear to them. Plus, Harry and another champion or two were injured by those dragons. Another group of frightening creatures they had, were dementors. Harry clearly remembered how every time a Dementor came near him, he heard the voice of Voldemort laughing , and he heard his mother's voice. Eventually, thanks to Professor Lupin, he was able to drive them off using the Patronus Charm.  
"Now, Cockatoodles, " Hagrid went on quickly, "these here are only babies. But, even if they come to be adults, they can' be any taller than four feet. As I said, they can breathe fire. Notice the wings everyone?"  
The whole class nodded. No doubt they haven't' noticed the feathery brown wings of the eight Cockatoodles.  
"The wings o' course are used to help 'em fly. But, because of the additional heavy weight o' the crocodile body at the back, they can't fly much either. Not higher than half a meter," the students were very grateful. The Slytherins were fearing that one day, the Cockatoodles would grab them and soar high in the air, to drop them on a mountain cliff or something. Hermione, who was muggle born, has previously visited some zoos with her parents. She remembered the ostriches that she saw. They were similar to these small Cockatoodles; they couldn't fly much either despite the fact that they were birds.  
"Now look here everyone, Cockatoodles can be very friendly to ya if you treat 'em good," said Hagrid.  
"Yeah right, " muttered Malfoy quietly, "just like that rampaging Hippogriff." By that, he referred to Buckbeak, the Hippogriff that attacked him in his third year.  
"Shut up Malfoy," whispered Harry warningly.  
"Now, ya can use Cockatoodles to dig lost treasures, valuable ones. An' when they do that ter ya, ya have to award them. By that I mean feeding 'em some dead worms," Some Slytherin girls were kind of disgusted.  
Hermione raised her hand.  
"Yes Hermione?" asked Hagrid.  
"So, these Cockatoodles, are they similar to Nifflers?"  
Everybody recalled studying Nifflers in fourth year. They were creatures that would return lost valuables to persons too, just like the Cockatoodles.  
"Er...yeah, kind o'," replied Hagrid. "Firs' thing ya gotta do when ya meet a Cockatoodle is to give 'em a sharp look, it mus' be a bit scared of ya. If ya don't, it'll make fun of ya greatly, and it can be a big source o' exasperation to ya. Then, ya could come nearer and pat it on the head. If ya hear some voices from its throat, it means that it's accepting ya as a friend. Then, ya could give it somethin' to do. Like search for lost valuables or somethin'."  
Most of the Gryffindors were intrigued.  
"Another use, is that if by any chance, ya wan'ed your dinner-turkey grilled, they can do if for ya. Turn it into ashes if ya let 'em do it for a longer time," Hermione was noticing their long razor-sharp tails.  
"Professor, what are the tails used for?" she asked politely.  
"Oh, the tails, glad ya mentioned that Hermione," said Hagrid, "listen everyone, another use of Cockatoodles. Ya can used their tails to cut what I call uncuttable wood, hard wood, that is. Somethin' else, if ya wanna cut your pork chops into smaller pieces, here ya go, the Cockatoodles are available."  
Several of the Gryffindors were laughing loudly, including Seamus, Neville, Dean, Harry, Hermione, and Ron.   
"I know, I know," began Hagrid in a funny voice, " Cockatoodles can be highly useful and a source o' fun to ya."   
Malfoy came to the front, to have a closer look at the Cockatoodles.  
"Will they breathe fire on us? Because if they will, I'm stepping out of this class right now," he proclaimed rudely. Harry swore that he could've let Ron attack Malfoy, but he kept quiet, still red in the face. Hermione was furious too.  
"Don't worry Malfoy, everythin' will be fine as long as ya treat them right and give 'em some worms and work to do," replied Hagrid sincerely.  
"Sure, just like that ugly Hippogriff," said Malfoy.  
"This does it," grunted Hagrid angrily, "enough of my kindness here. Twenty points form Slytherin Malfoy. Buckbeak was one o' the best breeds of Hippogriffs I ever knew, and he on'y attacked ya, because ya were too busy chattin' with those two blokes (he pointed at Crabbe and Goyle), not paying attention to me explanation of Hippogriffs bein' easily offended."  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron never saw Hagrid this angry at a student before, even though it was Malfoy. Malfoy was silenced.  
"Ya know what Malfoy, get out o' here," yelled Hagrid, his voice echoing all over the deep-inside forest. "If ya can't stand a chance to offend any of the creatures, I don' wanna see you in me classes. In fact, I never wanted ter. If ya don't wanna teach that thick brain o' yours anything, fine with me. But that doesn't mean that ya can waste the whole time distracting me class, cause there are other people who would like to learn something, you know."  
Malfoy backed away, scared of Hagrid's attitude.  
"Fine," said Malfoy weakly, soon gathering his stuff and leaving the class.  
" Ya can go with 'em if ya want, I don' care," yelled Hagrid angrily at Crabbe and Goyle, who both remained still.  
A few moments passed, until at last, Hagrid talked again.  
"Now, back to the Cockatoodles, I want ya to pair up and enjoy bein' with 'em. Remember to shoot them sharp looks to frighten 'em first. And then, ya can bring some wood from over there, and watch 'em cut it into pieces."   
None of the Slytherins dared to try and play along with a Cockatoodle. Luckily, the Gryffindors didn't mind. And it happened to be that the total number of sixth year Gryffindors was eight students, exactly like the number of Cockatoodles available. So, each one had to grab a Cockatoodle.  
When Ron returned, he was still laughing, not about the Cockatoodle, but about what happened moment ago.  
"What are you laughing about?" asked Harry, shooting his Cockatoodle a sharp look.  
"Did you see their faces? Crabbe and Goyle? They nearly wet themselves!" Ron was laughing extremely now, rolling on the floor. His Cockatoodle looked at him curiously.  
"Serves them right," said Hermione, laughing too.  
"It was odd, though, wasn't it? Hagrid never kicked a student out of his class, has he? But at least it was Malfoy," he was laughing too.  
Now, Harry, Hermione, and Ron's Cockatoodles were cutting a pile of wooden logs into small cylinders, and presenting the wood to them.  
Hermione patted her Cockatoodle on the beak, and thanked it.  
She, Harry, and Ron grabbed their Cockatoodles, which were slightly heavy, and returned them to an area near Hagrid's hut.  
"So, what do ya think o' em?" asked Hagrid, his face behind the hut's window.  
"Interesting and very useful," answered Hermione.  
"Amazing," added Harry.  
"A bit funny too," continued on Ron.  
Suddenly, the trio heard a scream from behind them. It was Sandra Sanderson, the same girl who spotted the smoke coming out of one of the Cockatoodles' nostrils. Her Cockatoodle was hanging on to her finger. She was bitten, and blood was dripping.  
"Get off, you stinking weird-looking---ouch!" she cried. Then, she grabbed a small wooden log, and stroke the Cockatoodle on the head. It was sort of dizzy for a moment, then it fell to the ground. Sandra was still looking at it. The Cockatoodle was in pain, crying, and making strange voices, heading towards the Dark Forest.  
Hagrid came closer to her, with some medicine to heal the wound.  
"Does it hurt so bad?" he asked quickly.   
"Yeah it does---ouch! Gently!" She was criticizing Hagrid's way of adding the medicine onto her hand.  
Then, a roar of rooster-cries echoed from the Dark Forest. Harry, Hermione, and Ron turned around, to see a huge flock of Cockatoodles heading towards the class.  
"What the---" began Hagrid, shocked from the Cockatoodles' attitude. "What's wrong with 'em?"

They blew flames on Hagrid's hut. He dashed through the hot fires, risking the chance, to save Fang.  
He came out quickly, leading Fang to the trio.  
"Come on ya lazy coward hound dog!" the fires were spreading, nearly burning Fang's tail.  
Twelve more Cockatoodles were cutting a tree from the forest. It was falling down now.   
"AAAAAAAAAARGH!" screamed Neville, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender, and Dean together. The shadow of the tree was covering them up now, and the tree was nearing the ground, until...  
"Finite Incantatem!" screamed Harry. Immediately, the tree was blasted into smithereens.  
"Quick Hermione, do something," declared Harry, avoiding the fire behind him. The Slytherins were jumping around the place , trying to escape. Five Cockatoodles managed to lift Pansy Parkinson up in the air, and they tossed her to land on the fires.  
"Somebody help!" she shouted.  
"Accio Pansy!" yelled Hermione, and summoned Pansy Parkinson back.  
She landed on the floor, still frightened.  
"Thank you Granger," she muttered quickly.  
"That was the first kind thing you ever said to Hermione," said Harry in amazement.  
"Well---things can change," she added on, and then joined the rest of the escaping Slytherins.  
"Ron! Look out behind you!" Harry warned Ron of a Cokcatoodle that was nearing him, pointing its razor-sharp tail towards his leg.  
"_Imobulus_!" said Ron automatically, and froze the Cockatoodle.  
"Someone get Professor Dumbledore!" gasped Hagrid, throwing some water on his hut to put out the fire.  
Hermione thought of a way, perhaps cruel, to stop the angry Cockatoodles.  
"Everyone, quick, stunning spells at three, we have no choice,"  
Several of the Slytherins and the Gryffindors nodded.  
"One---two----three!"   
"_Stupefy!_" roared everyone. At once, the last nine Cockatoodles were stunned, and fell to the ground. The whole place was a mess, and smoke was filling the lungs of the students.   
The bell rang, and the trio left the sad Hagrid to inform Professor Dumbledore about this incident of the attacking of the Cockatoodles.  
"Now what was that all about?" asked Ron furiously, catching his breath.  
"There must've been something wrong with them, because they were friendly with us. You saw them," answered Hermione.  
"I bet you anything it was that Sandra girl's fault," explained Harry, "she hit her Cockatoodle with a wooden-log, didn't she? So, it must've thought of revenge. But, clearly, it was over reacting. It brought its whole herd here to wreck the place and destroy it." Harry's explanation was a meaningful answer.  
"You may be right Harry," said Hermione, smiling at him ,"but they shouldn't have overreacted at all."  
They entered the castle, heading to the headmaster's office, having the need of informing him about the vicious Cockatoodle attack.


	18. Training Session

Finally, it was Saturday, which everyone was keen for it to come. It was the weekend, and today, the Gryffindor Quidditch team trainings were scheduled to start. However, Ginny and Neville still didn't have their own broomsticks. Harry felt a bit of guilt for not remembering about that. So, he got a special permission from Professor Dumbledore, to visit Diagon Alley, and buy the two brooms, Comet three hundred, and Nimbus two thousand and one. Although they were worth a lot of money, Harry had enough in his Gringotts vault. 

Harry was accompanied by Hermione and Ron, who were both pleased to come with him.  
"I reckon the Nimbus two thousand and one's price rose a bit, don't you?" Ron asked Harry.  
" I don't know, maybe," he replied uncertainly.  
"No bet the Comet three hundred's price didn't," said Hermione, laughing.  
"Yeah," said Harry quietly.  
Finally, Diagon Alley stood in front of them, crowded as always with customers, walking in and out of the different shops.  
"Hey, I'll go get some money from Gringotts, want to come?" asked Harry.  
"Sure, we'd love to," replied Hermione, and she gave Harry a wink. He smiled.  
"Do you think Bill's in there though?" asked Ron, looking annoyed from the fact of mentioning Bill.  
"So? It won't do any bad, would it?" asked Harry.   
"I reckon if he sees us, he'll write to Mom, and tell her we've been sneaking out of school, wondering around here for no reason," declared Ron  
"Why are you thinking this way?" asked Hermione, perplexed.  
"I don't know, come on, let's get some money out of your vault Harry," said Ron, pushing the two forwards.  
"Ok," said Harry happily.

Fifteen minutes later, the trio got out of Gringotts. Harry got three thousand galleons out of his vault. For Ron's luck, Bill wasn't inside. Although Bill wasn't present, Ron was still disgusted from the sight of the ugly dwarf sized goblins. Every time he set an eye on them, he felt something repulsive come into his mouth.

Now, Harry had to buy the two broomsticks for Ginny and Neville. When they entered the shop, many brooms were lying on several shelves, all of them looked brand new.  
"How may I help you dears?" asked the lady.  
"Um...we need one Comet three hundred, and one Nimbus two thousand and one," answered Harry, getting money out of three golden bags.  
"Is that all?" asked the lady again, smiling.  
"Yes," answered Hermione.  
Immediately, the lady dashed to the back of the storeroom, and came back with two gleaming shining broomsticks, a brown orange Comet three hundred, and a jet black green Nimbus two thousand and one. She laid them on the counter.  
"Er.. could you please wrap them? We want them to be presents," said Harry.  
"My pleasure," answered the lady. At once, with a wave of her wand, she wrapped the two broomsticks with tight present wrappers and handed them over to Hermione and Harry. Meanwhile, Ron was counting the number of galleons that were supposed to be paid from Harry's three golden bags.  
"That'll be...one thousand and six hundred galleons my dear," said the lady, beaming at them.  
"No problem," said Harry, and paid the lady.  
"Thank you," muttered the lady softly, "do visit us again, bye,"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron stepped out of the shop and headed back to Hogwarts, which was far away. The journey took them several hours, until at last, they reached the gigantic castle of Hogwarts.  
"Ginny will dance around the common room when she gets her broomstick," said Ron, giggling.  
"Neville will be knocked out, straight away," said Harry, laughing even louder than Ron. Hermione laughed too.

Throughout the afternoon, the trio have been trying to find the right time to present the broomsticks to Neville and Ginny, but couldn't. Eventually, when all the Gryffindors went back to the common room to sleep, they got their big chance.  
"Neville, Ginny, we've got something for you," said the trio together. Their hands came into Neville and Ginny's view, holding two magnificent broomsticks.  
"Oh my God, " said Ginny, her eyes almost popping out.  
Neville's jaw fell wide open, staring at his Comet three hundred.  
"Brand new," began Ron, handing the broomsticks to Neville and Ginny.  
"Just as you wanted, " said Hermione. "Thanks to Harry here, we've been able to get these broomsticks for you." Harry blushed. These days, Hermione was beginning to be kinder to him than usual, way more. Harry loved it.  
"Thank you so much," proclaimed Neville and Ginny together, still in the shock of their broomsticks in their own hands.  
"You're most welcome, " replied Harry, giving Hermione and Ron a wink.

Three hours passed since the trio came back to Hogwarts and presented the Comet three hundred and Nimbus two thousand and one to Neville and Ginny; it was at last time to begin the Quidditch training.  
"Ok folks, I'll meet you in the Quidditch pitch in then minutes," said Harry. He summoned his Firebolt X6, and joined Hermione and Ron, heading to the changing rooms.  
Harry got out, so did Hermione, with her hands tightly holding her Firebolt, Ron with his Cleansweep.   
Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Neville, and Ginny appeared out of the changing rooms, staring at their own broomsticks.  
"Right then, today, we shall begin with some new techniques for all positions. But first, step into the pitch, teammates," said Harry, and the seven players headed to the Quidditch pitch.  
"Mount your brooms," instructed Harry. "Fly up everyone, now,"   
The seven rose fifty feet up in the air, all hanging on to their broomsticks.  
"Listen to me carefully, we'll begin first with beater training," he turned his eyes to Parvati and Lavender. "Hermione, Ron and I will be tossing Bludgers at you, and you'll have to defend Neville and Ginny, using your bats. Pay attention, you'll have to move quickly, otherwise, they'll be knocked out easily, get it?"  
"Yes," replied Parvati and Lavender together.  
"Right," said Harry, and turned towards Hermione and Ron, "you two be fast, ok? Throw the Bludgers straight at the empty spaces. I want to see how fast they think and move at the same time."  
"No problem," said Ron, struggling to get a strong grip on the Bludger.  
"But...Harry...what if Parvati and Lavender were too late, and Neville and Ginny were really injured? Bludgers are very rough you know," said Hermione earnestly.  
"Don't worry, everything will be under control. If things go too nasty, you can summon the Bludger back. And if we are too late, Madam Pomfrey's always at the patients' service, isn't she?" he giggled, so did Hermione and Ron.  
Immediately, Harry took a Bludger from Ron, and threw it sharply at Neville. Before it even scratched him, Parvati shot it away with her heavy bat.  
"Why am I always the victim?" said Neville, rubbing some sweat off his face.  
"Good move Parvati," complemented Hermione, "but try hitting the Bludger while swirling in the air next time, that'll be a bit tough."  
"Try me," said Parvati, grinning at the trio.  
"Here comes the second one," said Ron, and shot the Bludger at his own sister, without any feeling of remorse.   
Parvati was half right. She did swirl in the air circularly, with her bat rolling in the air too, but the Bludger went past her. Had not Lavender acted right in the right time, Ginny would've had a broken nose.  
"You were right Hermione, I should train on this move a bit more," commented Parvati.  
"Good work Lavender," said Ron.  
"Thank you Ron," answered Lavender happily.  
"So, now let's move on to chaser techniques and moves, do you agree?" asked Harry, turning his eyes to Hermione, Ginny, and Neville.  
"This fast?" asked Neville reluctantly. "Ok, fine with me Harry."  
"Good," began Harry, rubbing sweat off his nose, "Hermione, Ginny, and Neville, you'll have the Quaffle with you. You shall pass it to each other, and try to come past us, and score it, through one of those three hoops. Of course, Lavender, Parvati, Ron, and I will be the obstacles in your way."  
"Seems interesting, you really know Quidditch Harry," complimented Hermione.  
"How can't I? I've been on the team for the sixth year running now," said Harry, so sure of himself, and grinned.  
"Right then, now, you three line up over there," Harry told Hermione, Ginny, and Neville to stand in a horizontal line, just three meters in front of the east side hoops of the Quidditch pitch. Hermione had the Quaffle in her hand.  
Harry was watching his wristwatch.  
"Three," he began counting," two...one...GO!"

Within moments, Hermione passed the Quaffle to Neville, who zoomed through the air as fast as thunder. However, the Quaffle was taken by Lavender, she headed towards their side, and, luckily for the chasers, Ginny saved the right sided hoop, by shooting the Quaffle harshly with her broomtail.  
"Not bad Ginny," said Ron, giggling.  
After that, Hermione was in position of handling the Quaffle again. Her Firebolt was faster than ever now; she dashed to the far sides of the pitch, raising her hand to score, but instead, she found herself face to face with Harry. She was frozen to her broom, lost for actions.  
"Come on Hermione, move it," screamed Neville and Ginny from afar.  
Anyway, Harry, using his brilliant Firebolt X6, descended quickly, and tried to snatch the Quaffle right out of Hermione's left hand, but...  
"Ginny, catch!" declared Hermione. At once, the Quaffle was falling down ten feet, until Ginny grabbed it tightly, and headed to Harry's side of hoops. Parvati and Lavender were blocking her way. She had no choice other than to pass the Quaffle on to Neville.  
"Fantastic work Hermione, they'll surely find it difficult to get past you," said Harry.  
"Thank you so much, I'm just another beginner," replied Hermione, smiling at him fervently.  
"Neville, catch the Quaffle!"  
The Quaffle landed right between Neville's arms. He stopped for a moment, gazing at the approaching Harry. Without any warning, Harry kicked the bottom of the Quaffle, to roll several times in the air and to land on Harry's right palm. Poor Neville was disappointed.  
"Better wake up earlier Neville, to beat a Firebolt X6," said Ron earnestly. Neville nodded. 

The training continued on, until at last, it was all over, when Neville scored a glorious goal through the middle hoop, when the Quaffle flew right through Parvati's legs, and into the empty, circular hoop.  
"Congratulations Neville, well done," said Harry, clapping Neville on the back.  
"Good job," said a happy Hermione.  
"Nicely done," declared Ron, patting Neville on the hand.  
"Stunning work," complimented Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny.  
"Thank you, I didn't think I was better at anything else, other than Herbology I mean," squeaked Neville quietly, he was tired.  
"Well done, all of you," said Harry, giving the whole group a thumbs-up, "Ok, next training will be on...Friday, what do you think?"  
"Allright," replied Hermione and Ron.  
"Good enough for us," declared Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati.  
"What they said," said Neville, pointing at the two girls.  
"So this is settled now, next Friday, don't forget," said Harry for one last time, and then, they all entered the castle, and headed to Gryffindor common room. They didn't fancy having dinner now. They lost their appetite from the harsh smart Quidditch training.

"Hey Ron," Harry went on, "don't you notice something?"   
"No, what?" answered Ron, looking slightly puzzled.  
"I mean...nothing funny happened, right? Attacks or killings I mean," explained Harry.  
"And why would you want attacks and killings?" asked Ron, perplexed.  
" Ron, I mean...well...Voldemort... his Death Eaters; they didn't do anything, did they?"  
"Not yet," answered Ron, his voice lowering down to a mono tone, "so, what made you think about that?"  
"I don't know, really," added Harry uncertainly.  
It was true though, this time every year, the students, including Harry, always began facing trouble from Voldemort, his death-eaters, some tricky cunning men, with the real inside of them disguised. Perhaps, this is why Harry was beginning to consider this matter. Nothing major happened to them, no serious attacks, except maybe the Cockatoodles'.

Hermione just came down the stairs, and joined Harry and Ron for a conversation. Harry went ahead, and told her all about his thought and wonder.

"Honestly, I don't know what it means Harry. Maybe Voldemort doesn't want anything to happen just yet, but of course, he must be planning for something, he always did. Meanwhile, I don't know why nothing happened till now, nothing strange at all. But, Harry, you remember your vision, don't' you? It foreshadowed the beginning of the end, didn't it?"  
"Yeah," replied Ron, yawning.  
"Well, that was something big for Harry,"  
"It sure was, annoying, really," said Harry, taking a bite out of the Chocolate Frog.   
"Well...I...um...let's just say that we hope nothing happens, ok?" said Hermione, comfortably.  
"That's more like it," said Harry and Ron together.

Then, the trio heard some sound knocking on the window behind them. When Harry got up, it was owl, that's what he saw. A small, very feathery owl, holding out a letter addressed to him…  
"Who is it from?" asked Hermione and Ron.  
"I don't know, there's no name," answered Harry. Straight away, he opened the letter. It was startlingly short.

"Beware the crows of the Dark Valley, they strike soon!"  
As Hermione and Ron heard Harry speak, they stared at each other, misunderstood and confused about the sentence Harry had just read.  
"Beware of the crows of the Dark Valley, what is that supposed to mean?" asked Ron, reading the letter again.  
"It must've been a type of warning," spoke Hermione, still looking at the letter.  
"Whatever it meant, it had to be something dangerous that comes in our way," began Harry slowly, "we must get ready, those crows could attack any time."  
"You actually believe that Harry? What if it was only joke?" asked Ron, laughing.  
"It wasn't a joke Ron," and Hermione glared at him; she gave him a sort of don't-joke-about-things-like-this look. "It's probably a clue, a hint perhaps, for something that might happen soon at Hogwarts."   
"Why crows though? Couldn't there be any other creatures Voldemort would send?" asked Harry, frightened a bit.  
Hermione and Ron turned to him, unsure of what to say.  
"V….Vold…Voldemort?" asked Ron, and it was the first time he ever spoke his name. Harry and Hermione were impressed with this improvement.  
"You mean, you know it's from him?" asked Hermione.  
"Of course, which other person would send some threatening messages about our future? His death-eaters? Well, that could be possible, but it'll be on his orders anyway," explained Harry.  
"You may be right Harry," Hermione sighed, "but, do be careful, you too Ron, will you? We've still got this year to complete, and next year, till we leave, and I don't wish for any of us to die before those exciting moments of graduation. I do understand, our path that lies before us, is definitely dark, filled with traps and tricks and sabotage..."  
"Wow Hermione," began Harry, his glasses falling to his nose.  
"What?" she asked.  
"You should meet Firenze one day; you have the gift of predicting the future," said Ron, then imitating Professor Trelawney's voice when she used to tell them death lies before them , she's their ex-Divination teacher.  
"Ha ha, so funny," began Hermione strictly," look, you shouldn't be joking about this, it's serious."  
"We know, just...just cool down," mumbled Harry vaguely.  
"Cool down? Allright, but I'm giving you my advice, or as a matter of fact, Mad-Eye's, constant vigilance,"  
"Don't you remind me about those times, he used to make us jump out of our seats, remember?" said Ron, laughing, and then stopped when Hermione shot him an angry look.  
It was late now, and the common room was practically empty, had not Harry, Hermione, and Ron been there.  
"Honestly Hermione, we really value what you think, because you're really our best friend, but, we...we're just asking you.. to not be worried a lot," said Harry quickly.  
"Ok," said Hermione, slightly yawning.   
"Come on, time for bed," said Harry, yawning loudly.   
"I guess you're right," and Ron got up too, climbing up the stairs, and heading to his bed.  
"Goodnight Harry," said Hermione, and left. Harry was entirely numb now, after the Quidditch training, in the cold weather. So, finally, he gave up trying to stay awake and complete his Defence Against the Dark Art's lesson plan for the Ravenclaw and Slytherin seventh years, and directly went to bed.


	19. Dueling and Crows of Dark Valley

Through his sleep, Harry had a glimpse of the terrible vision he had the last time. He clearly saw the dark room he stepped into. Again, he took out his wand, lit the room, and was startled by the horrific scene of the ten dementors or so. The terrible moments of being lifted into the air, facing the great big wolf, haunted Harry's mind. The wolf opened its mouth, and...  
"Hey, wake up, sleepy head,"   
It was Ron, who had just got out of bed, trying to wake Harry.  
"Oh, good morning," mumbled Harry vaguely.  
"Morning," started Ron, stretching, "hey, are you ok? You were shaking a bit in your bed, like something was about to attack you."  
"I was?" asked Harry perplexed.  
"Yeah, you even muttered something softly, which I didn't get the slightest chance to hear. I only just woke up," answered Ron, yawning. "Big day today, huh?"  
"Ye--why?" asked Harry, a bit puzzled.  
"Well, we'll be dueling, won't we?" explained Ron clearly.  
"Oh, I see now. I guess I forgot," answered Harry, getting out of bed slowly.  
"I don't blame you mate, after yesterday's wearisome training, we all needed some rest," Ron went on, "hey, seconds ago, did you hear Neville?"  
"No, I was dreaming, until you came along," replied Harry, a little tired.  
"God, he snored like a pig would!" Ron giggled. A soft breeze came through the window and shook the two out of their places to get along with their school day.  
"I guess we've got to go now," said Harry, putting on his glasses," by the way, next Quidditch training, we'll train on keeper techniques, allright?"  
"Fine," answered Ron lazily, and the two got out of the boys' dormitory.

Hermione was just walking out of the room; they didn't get a chance to say good morning. Probably, they didn't because she always wakes up first, so excited and so enthusiastic to start the day.

Shortly after breakfast, Harry and Ron met Hermione in one of the corridors. She was talking to Professor McGonagall about the book she took from the library. Harry and Ron thought they heard her say it was cool and contained a lot of facts. Of course, what else could she have said? Hermione would have no problem to open a thousand pages long book, and read to enjoy and learn at the same time. Doesn't that witch ever get tired? However, Harry and Ron never thought Hermione would step down from where she is. She'd never change into an ignorant girl who never cares about homework, and doesn't mind points being taking off her house because of her. No, Hermione wasn't that kind of person.  
"Hello Harry, hello Ron," she just caught up with them, carrying the book she borrowed from the library.  
"Hi," started the two, "ready to go?"  
"Yes," she smiled, and the three walked happily to their first lesson, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Just as Ron reminded Harry, today, they were going to review dueling, which they've all been taught about in second year. Unfortunately, the one who taught them was an old fraud, who cared about nothing but himself and fans...Professor Lockhart, who's memory was seriously damaged.  
Harry was quite good at dueling. He actually used it, loads of times. The most memorable moments of dueling, were when he stood face to face with Voldemort, in the old graveyard, two years ago. The mood was so tense, and Harry wanted revenge for Cedric Diggory, the seventeen year old boy who was one Hogwarts champion, the kind friendly gentlemen who deserved the winnings, one thousand galleons. But of course, unluckily, he was murdered, personally by Lord Voldemort himself, which never felt a bit of guilt and remorse.

"Allright, listen up class," yelled Harry, trying to hush up the Slytherin sixth years and his fellow Gryffindors, "what we'll do today, is that we're going to duel. Of course, you specifically remember the moments when we first tried it in second year, don't you?"  
The majority nodded in agreement.  
"Right then, it shouldn't be tough for you guys," Harry went on, "and another thing, we won't be practicing it in here."  
Several Slytherins looked at him, confused.  
"Then where are we going, surely not in your common room?" came the dull cold voice of Draco Malfoy. Many of his friends were laughing. Ron stared at him, almost ready to kill him with pleasure, but luckily, Neville nudged him in the ribs, and pulled him back to tell him about his new plant, as an interruption. Harry wasn't pleased too.  
"Ten points from Slytherin Malfoy," began Harry, smiling sarcastically," for being such a rude person."  
Malfoy glared at him, raising his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to say something.  
"Want to go for more?" asked Harry sincerely.  
"Right then. Everyone, follow me," instructed Harry, and everybody was out of the classroom.  
"Where are you taking us Harry?" whispered Hermione softly in his ear.  
"R.O.R," replied Harry, grinning at her.  
"What?" apparently, she didn't fully understand what he meant by R.O.R.  
"Room of Requirement," explained Harry quickly, letting the big Goyle pass by and join Malfoy.  
"What? Why are you taking us there?" asked Hermione again, but this time, smiling.  
"Well, it was an idea. Plus, you saw how highly useful it was with the--" he lowered his voice, "DA last year."  
"Oh, I see," she nodded, "well Harry, your ideas always turn out to be great, don't they?"  
"Maybe, yeah, sometimes," answered Harry.

At last, the seventh floor!  
Harry clearly remembered the position of the Room of Requirement. He thought of what he needed. Probably a wide stage, with circular edges in which opponents stepped on. What else? he thought. A whistle! He needed a whistle to hush them all up, just in case it got too loud. Nothing happened for a moment, and then...a door appeared out of thin colorless air. It was the entrance.  
"Step in, quickly, everybody," said Harry, standing beside the door, counting the number of students that went in. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were the last to enter. Harry shook his head, disapproving their rude behavior.

"Settle down, you lot, on the benches over there," instructed Harry, pointing at the benches that were located just behind the wide stage, which he remembered picturing in his mind.  
"Ok, who wants to go first?" asked Harry. To his surprise, many of the Slytherins raised their hands. So did the Gryffindors. Even Neville raised his hand, although he was a bit uncertain to do it.  
"Ok, the first pair, Neville against Malfoy. Up here please," said Harry. Malfoy's cold smile widened, as he discovered that the extremely forgetful Neville, turned out to be his opponent. The two stepped on the steps, and were now standing on the round edges.  
"Right," began Harry, shooting Neville a you-can-do-it look, "bow."  
The two bowed, and Malfoy barely lowered his head.

"Careful here, we don't want any serious damages and injuries," Harry was specifically talking to Malfoy, who had his wand ready in his arm. Neville was ready too, with sweat covering his face.  
"One, two..." Harry was afraid that Malfoy would cast his spell at two, just like when they first did, but luckily, he was wrong, "three!"  
Immediately, Malfoy pointed his wand at Neville, and roared '_Expelliarmus_'.  
Neville's wand flew away, several ft. Until Ron acted in the right time, and summoned it. He presented it back to him.  
"Thank you," sighed Neville heavily.  
"Concentrate Neville, you can do it," said Ron, patting him on the right shoulder.  
He faced Malfoy, who had his head raised high up.  
"Are you ok Neville?" asked Harry, approaching him.  
"Yeah, I'm allright," answered Neville.  
"Ok, get ready," started Harry, and he glared angrily at Malfoy, "one...two...three!"  
This time, Malfoy decided to stun Neville.  
"Stupefy!" cried Malfoy. A jet of red light came out of the tip of his wand, flying through the air to reach Neville. Poor Neville didn't know what to do for a couple of seconds. Then, he remembered something, quite useful...  
"Protego!" he squeaked. Instantly, a silvery translucent wall formed in front of him. Malfoy's stun was reflected by the silver wall, and returned back to him, throwing him off the stage. Malfoy was on his knees, wincing a bit. Luckily, he wasn't hurt too much. If that happened, he would've experienced the real excruciating pain of stunning. Thank goodness it lost some of its effect, after being reflected. Several of the Gryffindors applauded, and in the exact opposite, jeers came from every Slytherin's mouth.   
Harry helped Malfoy up, unintentionally of course.  
"Well done," complimented Harry, "both of you! Fifteen points to Slytherin and Gryffindor!" Now, both houses were clapping. Neville still didn't believe his luck. The two were ordered to shake hands by Harry. Malfoy quickly let go, grinned at Neville.  
"Not bad at all, Longbottom," and he backed off to his group.   
"Excellent work Neville," said Seamus, giving him a wink.  
"It...it wasn't much," said Neville, his smile fading away.  
"It wasn't much? Neville, it bounced off the wall, and knocked Malfoy to the ground!" yelled Ron.  
"So, who will be next?" asked Harry, looking around.

For the next fifty minutes, all of them had chances to duel. Everybody got their turn to prove their abilities of handling rivals and opponents that would attack them. Ron made a joke of Crabbe, who was so red in the face. The dumb fat gorilla-like boy hasn't spoken a word when Harry said 'three'. So, Ron used the Furnunculus charm for a bit of fun. Dean dueled against Sandra Sanderson, and Hermione dueled against Harry himself. She won the first round, but lost the second. Harry added ten more points to Gryffindor for that.  
He checked his watch; it was time for the bell to ring. Just moments later, it did. The sound of it echoed all over the corridors.  
"Ok, good job everybody, no homework," started Harry, as he quickly opened the door, "see you next lesson!"  
"Hey," began Ron, "can you believe him?"  
"Who?" asked Hermione and Harry at the same time.  
"Crabbe!" he snorted comically. "Did you see his face? Glowing red like a Halloween pumpkin?" He was laughing so loud now, remembering the delightful sight of casting the Furnunculus charm at Crabbe. Ron left Harry and Hermione, to go to the bathroom. He greatly suspected that he wet himself, due to the laughing. It was seven minutes, till their second lesson began. However, it was cancelled. They had Charms next, but unfortunately, Professor Flitwick was a bit ill, and resting in the Hospital Wing. So, they had a whole free hour, before their third lesson, Potions, the worst of all.  
Ron returned from the bathroom, joining Harry and Hermione for a walk beside the lake, still giggling about Crabbe.

The lake's water was calm, not moving at all. Naturally, everybody knew the lake was the habitat of the Giant Squid, who lived deep inside it.  
"Hey," started Hermione, moving her hair off her face," do you know when's our first Quidditch match Harry?"  
"Oh, that," began Harry, "I think it'll be on the third of November."  
"Isn't it supposed to be way earlier?" asked Ron, to make sure.  
"I know, " started Harry, taking a refreshing deep breath of the pure air, "it was scheduled to be on the nineteenth of October, against Slytherin, first. But, their lot wanted to postpone it, they said something about not being prepared, and something about them not training yet."  
"They're probably scared of us," said Ron, laughing.  
"What makes you think that?" asked Harry, slightly giggling. "Slytherin aren't that easy Ron."  
" I agree with Harry," declared Hermione. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.  
Harry fleetingly stopped every now and then, to check the time. However, he still got forty minutes, before the three headed back to the boring dungeons.  
"Did you hear something?" asked Harry curiously.  
"No," answered Hermione and Ron. "Why?"  
"I just thought I heard...oh, never mind," said Harry, and continued on to walk. Finally, they decided to sit under the shade of a huge oak tree, and start on their Astronomy homework, which was supposed to be no less than five feet of parchment.  
Harry and Ron were extremely bored with this. After History of Magic, Astronomy was very wearisome, boring, and dull. Luckily, Hermione was with them. She kept smiling at the two, like they were pathetic, every time they begged her to copy her homework. They kept trying to convince her to do it, until at last she gave up.  
"You're a life saver Hermione," exclaimed Harry heavily, and took her homework to copy.  
"What else can I do?" asked Hermione proudly. "I can't afford to have my best friends fail a subject, can I?"  
"Of course not," replied Ron slowly.  
"Thanks," muttered Hermione softly.  
The next few minutes were uneventful, when...Harry's eyes caught something big and black in the sky.  
"Guys, what's that?" Harry was pointing at something above the horizon, nearing Hogwarts.  
"I...don't know," answered Ron, still gazing carefully.  
"It..." began Hermione, squinting, "it looks like a big black cloud or something."  
"Oh great news," said Ron in an ironic way, "it'll rain!"

On the other hand, Harry didn't agree with their explanations. He got up, and looked more properly and closely at the sky. Slowly, the image became clearer. It looked something like a group of birds flying together. There were a lot of them, tightly connected to each other, probably three hundred. Suddenly, Harry was shocked when he remembered something. He turned to Hermione and Ron, his eyes wide open.  
"Oh no," he began, "remember the letter we got from the unknown sender the other day? About The Crows from Dark Valley striking soon?"  
Ron swallowed a lump.  
"They actually...meant what they wrote?" he murmured softly.  
"Ron! Wake up!" said Hermione loudly. "Yes, they did mean it. What do you see coming our way? A group of flamingos?"

The crows were more visible now, creating a huge wide shadow that spread over the grounds. Many students looked up, curious.  
The crows were descending, producing loud, extremely annoying sounds.  
Twenty of them or so headed to the Whomping Willow, and burned the very top of it.  
"They can breathe fire?" asked Ron terrified. "Come on, we must do something, before they wreck this place."   
"Easy for you to say," mumbled Hermione softly. "Harry, what happens now?"  
"I don't...I don't know what to do Hermione, should we stun them?"  
"Maybe stunning is useful...watch out!" she warned Harry. A beam of flame was heading his way, missing is head.  
"Thanks for the warning," he said heavily. The three ran away from their spot. Then, they saw Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Sprout trying to stun the crows, but they all missed. Surprisingly, a crow landed on McGonagall's hair, and started pecking. Quickly, Professor Dumbledore burned the crow with a wave of his wand.  
"Thank you Albus," said McGonagall, catching her breath.  
"Look," said Hermione, turning Harry's head and Ron's head towards some crows which were on the ground. They transformed into cobras!  
"Oh, this keeps getting worse, doesn't it?" said Ron, as snakes were his second greatest fear. One of the long black cobras slithered quickly towards him.  
"_Evanesco_!" shouted Harry. At once, the cobra vanished.  
Ron was catching his breath.  
"I thought the Cockatoodles were enough damage," said Hermione, "Protego!" She defended herself using the shield charm. A vicious looking crow bumped into it, fell to the ground, then got up again.  
"Vanish him!" said Harry looking at Ron, but he didn't move. The crow strangely was growing bigger and taller. It stood almost eight feet from the ground. The three had their heads up, backing away nervously. Something very unnatural happened...the crow talked.  
"Harry Potter!" it croaked. " We come form Dark Valley, where our master currently rests. We attack you as we were told."  
Hermione and Ron were stumbling in their places. Harry had his eyes fixed on the crow, his body shaking.  
"The Dark Lord shall send more of the followers soon, Harry Potter. Be prepared next time. They'll tear this place apart. And at last, you will be facing our master, for what he is sure of, for the last time. The time will come, when you at last shall fall, and join the ungrateful mudbloods of your time, and the time before you. All of that, will happen right here, at Hogwarts, the school of the Mudblood lover. "  
After that, instantly, the crow flapped its wings, and flew away, leading the flock of the crows to Dark Valley, their home.  
Students all over the school were panicking, and running to the Great Hall. Feathers lay all over the place.  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron joined the students, running into the castle, speechless.   
"Now what was that?" asked Ron hastily.  
Harry turned to him.  
"We're in great danger," he said slowly.  
Hermione nodded.


	20. Danger on the Pitch

For the next few weeks, Harry, Hermione, and Ron kept recalling the incident of the attack of the crows. It was really painful, seeing clearly in mind the burning of the grounds at Hogwarts, the crow that landed on Professor McGonagall's head, the crows that turned into great big cobras, the big crows that threatened them and warned them about an attack that will happen soon...It was just...frightening.  
On the other hand, their lessons seemed to be quite dull. Snape carried on teaching them about a very difficult potion that is used to make someone hyper. It was a miracle that Neville succeeded in mixing the ingredients. Three drops of the potion made his toad, Trevor, worse than hyper. He was jumping all over the class, ruining some potions and ingredients that were placed in Snape's private cupboard. Snape was exhausted! Once he set his eye on Trevor, the toad already would've been in another place. Luckily though, Hermione froze him right in time. Harry and Ron were amazed. Snape, the Potions' master didn't do it!

Another thing is that during these two weeks or so, the Gryffindor Quidditch team kept on training. Especially, keeper training. Ron was a complete failure at the beginning, although he saved goals scored by other teams last year, but anyway, later on, he made a big improvement. Harry, the captain, was pleased with everyone's performance and hard work.   
Hermione has learnt a few new moves from Quidditch throughout the Ages, which had an awfully great use in the training. Neville read several pages from the book too, so in turn, he improved on his chase techniques, and so did Ginny.  
Parvati and Lavender learned more about vigilance and looking around them. The two girls were now mastering the movements of the bats. Circular, up and down, left and right, diagonal, and any way the bat moved to block Bludgers.

One morning, November 2nd, the trio gathered the students in the Great Hall for breakfast.  
"Hey Harry," began Ron, holding the Daily Prophet "listen to this."  
Harry turned his head to listen more carefully.  
"What is it?" asked Hermione, catching a glimpse of a picture on the front page.  
"The drum player in the Weird Sisters died," claimed Ron.  
Although the Weird Sisters were a very minor topic to school work and attacks, it was quite shocking to hear such news. Everybody knew the pleasant music they played during concerts, specifically the Yule Ball that took place two years ago.  
"Pity," said Harry, frowning.   
"Yeah," said Ron, switching to the next page, "I have always liked that brilliant drum player."  
The silence of the students that were eating, was broken by the hooting of many owls. Mail time!  
There was a black crow among the tremendous amount of owls, heading toward Harry, which hadn't noticed it.  
"Harry, watch your head!" Hermione warned Harry.  
Immediately, a parcel dropped on Harry's head.  
"Thanks for the warning," declared Harry.  
"You're welcome," said Hermione, moving her plate away.  
"So, who's it from?" interrupted Ron.  
Harry was looking around for a name on the outside, but he didn't find any.  
Hermione and Ron both raised their eyebrows. Who was it from?

Slowly, Harry opened the parcel.  
"What the..."began Harry, coughing. There was a puff of smoke rising from inside. It rose high in the air, and everybody seemed to be attracted to it. And then, it took the form of a snake. A long green snake, with red eyes, as long as sixty feet or more.  
Hermione shrieked, and grabbed Harry's hand as though she saw someone dead. Ron panicked too.  
Over by the side of the teachers' table, Professor Dumbledore stood up, staring closely at the snake in the air, looking very curious. He silenced the whole area with a sharp look from his eyes, got out of his seat, and moved towards Harry and his friends.  
Suddenly, Harry had a flashback. He remembered now. He remembered who the great big snake was. It was Nagini, the scary horrifying snake that belonged to none other than Lord Voldemort. The hair on his hands stood straight up, he was shaking like mad. No one knew the true fear of Nagini appearing more than he did. Hermione was clutching his hand so hard, not letting go.   
Slowly, the snake approached Harry, Hermione, and Ron. It looked very real. It hissed for a moment, and then went on.  
No one understood what the snake made up of smoke said, no one, except Harry. For being a Parselmouth, he understood every word the snake hissed. His eyes almost popped out now. Hermione was crying, her tears falling into Harry's lap. What did the snake say?  
After that, the snake backed away. It opened its mouth, to do something. However, Dumbledore moved quickly and muttered 'Deletrius'. The smoke vanished at those words, and everybody was calm again, although still discussing the matter.  
Hermione and Ron turned their heads to Harry, who was still in shock.  
"Harry? Harry!" Hermione was slapping him on the face, as though he was dreaming.  
"What? W...What? Who.." began Harry.  
"Are you allright?" asked Ron.  
"Yeah...I'm...I'm fine," answered Harry, taking a deep breath.  
Professor Dumbledore came along.  
"Are you ok Harry?" he asked quietly.  
"Yes," replied Harry at once.  
"Are you sure?" asked Dumbledore again, looking uncertain about Harry's answer. "Here, have a chocolate."  
Harry politely took the chocolate. He swallowed it directly, without even chewing it.  
"Harry," Dumbledore lowered his voice, "what did the snake say?"  
Hermione and Ron paid more close attention.  
Harry was pale when Dumbledore mentioned Nagini. A look of fright and shock appeared fleetingly on his face, when at last, he weakly spoke.  
"Danger," he went on, "at the next Quidditch match...an...an attack...horrible...shrieks...panicking...all over the...the stadium."  
Harry was shaking. Although he was always known for being brave, he wasn't now. Perhaps this intense fright of Voldemort has taken away his courage. This matter has gone between them for more than five years now. It had to end. No matter what happened, it had to...  
"Is that all?" asked Dumbledore again, raising his half-moon spectacles from his nose.  
"Yes...that's all I can remember," answered Harry, shooting Hermione and Ron a worried anxious look.  
"Very well then. I have nothing to say but...be careful Harry. I may not know what the danger Nagini was referring to, but I'm sure that it'll be great as it has always been. Of course, how couldn't it be, if it wasn't from Lord Voldemort? Good luck on your match tomorrow Harry,"  
Dumbledore backed away, moving towards the front of the Great Hall.  
"Harry? What's going to happen?" queried Ron. "I don't understand."  
"Ron," began Hermione sharply, "can't you see? Harry said that there's going to be another attack, worse than the crows, tomorrow."  
"Tomorrow?" Ron swallowed a lump.  
"I wonder," began Harry slowly, "why do I keep getting these letters?"  
"I don't know Harry, but...maybe they always been warnings...to things that might happen in the future," explained Hermione earnestly.  
Harry nodded slowly. He was quiet for a moment.  
"When will this end?" he asked, in a mysterious kind of voice.  
"What?" asked Ron, looking mystified and confused.  
"This whole war? When is it going to end? When are we going to be living in peace again? When would every wizard and witch live happily, without the fear of evil? When? When?" teas were falling from is eyes. Harry has never been this sad before. It's true, he faced trouble with Voldemort no one ever did, even adults.  
"Soon Harry," began Hermione, wiping off a tear on his cheek with a handkerchief, "soon."

Finally, the dawn of November third emerged behind the horizon, and woke Harry up. They had their match first thing after breakfast. Harry was so anxious about it. He has trained himself and the rest of the team for more than two weeks, but still, he had a feeling that it wasn't enough. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to back away now. Being a captain, was something new to him. He was responsible for every player's move. He was the one chosen to lead them to the way of success.

"Good morning Hermione, ready for the match?" Harry has just joined Hermione for breakfast, who was eating too little.  
"Good morning, where's Ron?" replied Hermione, smiling.  
"He's on his way here," began Harry," what are you so happy about?"  
"Nothing...it's just that this is going to be the first ever match I play in," she went on, "I mean, this is not new to you, but it is for me. So, I'm very keen for the match to begin."  
Harry raised his eyebrows.  
"Whoa, Hermione. Cool down, or you'll get a heart attack!"  
They were both chuckling now. Moments later, someone sat on the bench, joining them for breakfast.  
"Morning," he began, pouring milk into his goblet.  
"Hi," muttered the two.  
"So, ready for the match?" he asked.  
"Yes, of course," replied Harry, giving Ron a wink.

Half an hour later, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender stepped out of the changing rooms, heading to the Quidditch pitch. Each one of them holding their broomstick horizontally, looking proud of themselves. It was a bit sunny today, which wasn't very good to the players' sight. Anyway, if they could play in the middle of rain, a little bit of light wouldn't do much harm.  
"Mount your brooms," instructed Harry. Obediently, his teammates stepped on their brooms, getting ready to soar in the air.  
Seconds later, the gates opened, and...they were off!  
A tremendous amount of audience was staring at the seven greens and seven reds circling around the Quidditch pitch, each one taking position.  
Harry had the highest position possible, so that he could fly around every now and then to search for the golden snitch.  
Most unfortunately, Lee Jordan, the usual commentator, left Hogwarts last year, with Fred and George Weasley. This year, however, someone younger took his place. Someone who thought of Harry as being a hero. Someone who was extremely delighted to help Harry in anyway. It was...  
"Oh, Mr. Creevey, would you start the welcoming speech please?" asked Professor McGonagall, who was sitting straight up in the top box.  
"Of course Professor," replied Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor fifth year, "everyone welcome to the first exciting match of the year. Today, it's Gryffindor vs. Slytherin."  
Cheers came along all the boxes that occupied Slytherin students. So did the cheers from Gryffindor.  
Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Neville were waving at their friends, twenty five feet below.  
Madam hooch stepped into the middle of the pitch, dragging the old wooden box, in which the two Bludgers, the Quaffle, and the golden snitch rested.  
"Captains, shake hands," she yelled.  
Harry held Malfoy's hand; Malfoy has been made captain this year. Malfoy seemed to be crushing Harry's hand, but he quickly let go, with a smirk on his face.  
"The players are ready to begin," stated Colin, his voice echoing all over the pitch.  
"Madam Hooch releases the Quaffle, and the game starts!"  
Slytherin chasers passed the Quaffle to each other, doing some tricks Harry never saw before.  
"Catch!" Tom Carlos threw the Quaffle high up in the air, to land on Robert Zagger's right hand. He had a fairly firm strong grip on it. Ron, who was hovering in front of the middle hoop, came to his sight. Ron got ready, the side of his right eye concentrating on the right hoop, which Zagger was most obvious to be heading to.  
He raised his arm...  
"I'll take that," it was Hermione. Cleverly as always, she grabbed the Quaffle, and snatched it right out of Zagger's fist. She was zooming in the air with the help of her magnificent Firebolt.  
"Excellent move done by Gryffindor chaser, Hermione Granger!" commentated Colin. The Gryffindors were clapping louder than ever, whistling, cheering, and screaming.   
"Neville, catch!" shouted Hermione, and the Quaffle found its way to Neville. Quickly, without a bit of thinking, Neville descended. The wind was blowing into his face. He was surrounded by the three Slytherin chasers.  
"I'd like to see how the fool would act now," came the cold voice of Draco Malfoy, who was flying near Harry.  
Neville was in trouble. He really needed to get out of the Slytherin chasers' trap, and pass the Quaffle to someone else, but he had no other choice than to try to score by himself.  
He was nearing the Slytherin's hoops now, flying closer. The keeper seemed to be jeering at Neville, for being a bit clumsy. However, Neville has proven that he had some intelligence in his forgetful brain. He raised his arm slowly, his eyes staring at the low left hoop. Luckily, the keeper caught this look, and at once, raced time to the left hoop.  
Neville grinned at him. Smartly, he had a plan that would distract the keeper's mind. Instead of scoring in the low left hoop, he cunningly scored in the high middle hoop. The keeper was so furious with Neville that he wanted to strangle him to death.  
"GOAL! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" roared Colin. Neville backed away from the Slytherin hoops, joining his teammates.  
"Well done!" complimented Ginny and Hermione.  
"Nice work Neville!" shouted Harry, who was seventeen feet above them, giving him a thumbs up. Neville smiled back, and took his position again.  
Malfoy had a wicked grin on his face, disapproving Neville's fantastic score.  
For the next twenty minutes or so, Hermione scored ten more times, with the help of Neville and Ginny. She made every Gryffindor congratulate her and cheer from down below her. Her way of steering Harry's old Firebolt was stunning, and a bit good for a beginner.  
Suddenly, Harry blinked a bit, doubting whether he saw the snitch or not. And...yes...he did! The golden snitch finally came into his view!   
The Firebolt X6 was zooming through the air, passing between players, avoiding Bludgers from either sides. Harry kept his eyes focusing on the snitch's movement. Unfortunately, Malfoy was right behind him. He seemed to be too close. Harry and Malfoy were on the sides of each other now. Malfoy stretched his left hand to have a strong grip on Harry's broomstick; however, Harry moved quickly away, turning around, to take the path of the fast snitch.  
"Come on," whispered Hermione, who was hoping for Harry to catch the snitch right away.  
"HARRY POTTER IS RIGHT BEHIND THE SNITCH! LOOK AT HIM GO!" yelled Colin, his smile widening.  
"Mr. Creevey, please, lower your voice, my eardrum will soon be exploding!" claimed Professor McGonagall.  
Just moments later, Harry did it. He caught the snitch! After minutes of circling around the pitch following it, with Malfoy sticking to him.  
Everybody was screaming, clapping, and whistling. Dean and Seamus, Harry's fellow sixth years, were dancing all over the box.  
Applause came from the teachers' boxes too. Professor Dumbledore gave Harry a thumbs up, and a wink, when suddenly...  
A huge shadow covered the stadium, blocking the sun's light. It was a giant!  
"This is not the right time," shrieked Ron.  
" Oh no," muttered Hermione softly.  
The giant, standing twenty eight feet or so from the ground, raised his club (bat), and smashed the wooden stands of the Quidditch pitch, that were decorated with the four houses' symbols. Teachers were running down the stairs, trying to stop the giant.  
It was too late! The giant was already in the pitch, heading towards the Slytherins and Gryffindors that were trapped in the boxes.  
He raised his club high in the air, and hit the wooden box. Some students fell to the ground, and some were hanging on to the giant's club, screaming and begging for help. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sticking together like jigsaw pieces.   
"We have to do something!" began Hermione.  
"We've got to save them!" shouted Ron, looking apprehensive.  
Harry was silent for moment, looking thoughtful.  
"This was Nagini's warning," he said, catching his breath, "she was right."   
"Harry, we don't care whether she was right or wrong. What are we going to do now?" stated Hermione strictly.  
"Follow me," said Harry. He actually had a plan in mind.  
The three soared through the air, as though breaking the sound barrier. The giant was stepping on the ground strongly, creating a violent earthquake that made some of the stands fall down. Teachers summoned students from the Quidditch pitch, directing them to the castle. Only Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape were left in the pitch.   
At last, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were hovering in the air ten meters away from the giant's right ear.  
"Hermione!" started Harry. "Levitate his club, quick!"  
"Wingardium Leviosa!" It happened in fractions of seconds. The giant's club flew out of his humungous hand, rising slowly in the air. It still had some Slytherins on it; they were shouting nervously for help.   
"Quick, Ron, summon them while I deal with the giant!" said Harry.  
Ron nodded, and said "Accio!"  
The Slytherins were zooming throughout the air.  
"Locomoter students!" said Hermione, and the Slytherins were flying now, following Hermione and Ron to the ground. Harry was left alone in the air, on his broom, facing the giant single-handed.  
The giant's big eyes glared at Harry, and then, the giant raised both hands, to squash Harry like a fly. Luckily, Harry flew up just in time. Then, he kept circling around the giant for a long time. He went everywhere opened to him. In the giant's filthy clothes, around his neck, between his legs, over his head...At last, the giant seemed to have been dizzy at last. It lost its balance, and THUD! It fell to the floor. Harry stared at the resting giant from above, looking impressed with his work. He flew down.  
"Good work Harry," complimented Dumbledore, "how are you feeling?"  
"Fine," answered Harry sarcastically," but it was terrible, wasn't it?"  
"Yeah, really scary," answered Ron, breathing deeply.  
"Shocking! A fully-grown giant! Here, at Hogwarts!" muttered McGonagall. At once, she transfigured the great big giant into a small white bunny rabbit. He hopped away.  
"Now now Minerva, we've been through trouble worse than this before," said Dumbledore, calming her down.  
"I know Albus, but..."  
"Relax, Professor," said Hermione, patting McGonagall on the shoulder.  
She was silenced by Hermione, and then set a pitiful look at the ruined pitch.  
"Just look at it, all destroyed, ruined, broken..." began McGonagall.  
"We're going to fix it in no time Minerva," said Dumbledore, sneezing after a bee passed by his nose.  
"Well, I think you three should be going to class now," smiled Dumbledore.  
"Yes Professor," replied Hermione, pulling Harry and Ron from their sleeves.  
"So, Nagini's warning was useful," started Hermione.  
"Of course, it was V...Vold…Voldemort who sent her, right?" questioned Ron.  
"Who else Ron?" answered Harry, "the Dursleys?"  
Hermione laughed at them.  
"You were awesome by the way," complimented Hermione, smiling at Harry," that was an excellent move you used to trick Malfoy."  
Harry smiled back at her.  
" Thanks! You were brilliant too," he started, blushing, "clever move when you grabbed the Quaffle from Zagger. You too Ron, you were ready for him."  
"Aah..don't mention it," said Ron, stretching.  
"Thanks," stated Hermione. She wrapped her arms around the two, and they walked to the gates. Fleetingly, they raised their eyebrows, but then, they smiled back.


	21. The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop

"Potter! Weasley! Would you stop your private conversations please?" It was Professor McGonagall. Harry and Ron were sitting at the back of the class, discussing the previous day's event about the attacking giant that ruined the whole Quidditch pitch, and scared the daylights out of everyone.  
"Sorry," apologized Ron, then paying close attention to Professor McGonagall, who was explaining about the sixth years approaching them most difficult level of their wizarding education, N.E.W.T.S.  
"But," interrupted Parvati Patil, "I thought we take N.E.W.T.S. in seventh year, not sixth year."  
Professor McGonagall shot her a sharp look, which silenced her right away.  
"As I was saying," Professor McGonagall went on, "you are entering the highest qualification level of your wizarding education at Hogwarts, N.E.W.T.S. Yes, I know that you don't take them till seventh year, but the studying that we'll begin in two months will give you a glimpse of what a tiny portion of N.E.W.T.S might feel. So mind you study hard and concentrate during classes."  
Harry and Ron were both bored with this speech.  
"Hermione," whispered Harry, "how many minutes are left till the bell?"  
Hermione turned to him quickly, her eyes still focusing on McGonagall.  
"Twenty minutes," she answered, and quickly turning around to listen to the rest of Professor McGonagall's boring speech.  
"Oh great," said Ron, ironically, and then glancing at the ceiling, his ears vibrating at the loud voice of Professor McGonagall.

At last, the sound of the bell crept into classes and hallways, sending students away from their last lesson of the day. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all pleased for the lesson to end, perhaps Hermione was the usual exception.  
"It was meaningful, her speech I mean," declared Hermione, "N.E.W.T.S are really a tough task to complete. Mind you, you'll have to work extra hard to pass those nastily exhausting test."  
"Hermione, will you give it a break?" asked Ron, more likely, grunted angrily. "They don't even being till next year, which is more than twelve months away!"  
"Ron!" shouted Hermione. "It's my job to warn you about it! Do you want to keep on failing about two subjects a year? I'm telling you because it's our future we're talking about, not a child-play..."  
"Hermione's right Ron," began Harry sympathetically, "you really need to consider studying. You can't afford to fail anymore, can you?"

"Oh go on, side with her!" yelled Ron, his face reddening. "Why doesn't anyone get it? Why the hell should we worry about those bloody tests, when they don't begin until next year?"  
Ron walked away, probably for his detention with Snape.

"He must be having a hard time," muttered Harry, giggling.  
"He sure does," added Hermione, giggling too.  
"So, want to go for a snack?" asked Harry, hearing the sound of hunger emerging from his empty stomach.  
"Now?" asked Hermione. "Couldn't you wait till eight o'clock? We could have dinner straight away."  
"Well...no...I mean yes...oh...I don't know...all I know is that I'm hungry, ok?" replied Harry, uncertainly.  
"Ok, don't bite my head off," said Hermione, laughing. "Should we go to the kitchens?"  
"Precisely," At those words, Harry and Hermione raced each other to the kitchens. Harry was running so fast, and Hermione was running as fast as she could. Harry imagined her as being an opponent on the opposing Quidditch team; this was the thing that made him even jump eleven steps on the stairs, then rolling on the ground, with the paint of the fruit basket coming into his view.  
"I win!" he raised his fist high up in the air.  
"Congratulations!" said Hermione, catching her breath. "You know, I could've won if I hadn't tripped over that rug." She pointed her index finger to the rug on the fifth step from the floor; it was folded in a way that made it seem so thick.  
"Yeah, sure," Harry giggled.  
After that, Hermione tickled the pair on the painting. It giggled for a moment, and then, a door handle appeared. Harry pulled it down, and he found himself in the kitchens.  
House-elves, here and there, were so busy, cooking and preparing the dinner meal. Little house-elves ran from one oven, to the other. On the other side, two house-elves were helping each other to design a perfect jelly, three feet tall. However, it was a mess, one of the house-elves fell into it, very disgusted.  
Then, suddenly, Harry heard a very familiar voice he hadn't heard for over five months or so, bouncing all over the place.  
"Harry Potter sir! Harry Potter sir! How nice it is for Dobby to see you!" it was Dobby, a little over-excited house-elf that was freed by Harry from the Malfoys', the family Dobby once belonged to.  
"Dobby! How are you?" asked Harry, his smile widening.  
"Fine sir, Dobby feels great. How are you, Miss?" Dobby turned his tennis ball-like green eyes to Hermione, who was on her knees.  
"I'm fine Dobby," replied Hermione, "hey, listen, do you think we could get a snack? If not, we'll come back later after dinner."   
Harry looked her in the eyes, in disbelief.  
"But of course!" squeaked the happy Dobby. "What would Harry Potter and his friend like?"  
"Anything," answered Harry quickly," just to fill up the space here." He was rubbing his stomach.  
"It is Dobby's pleasure!" Immediately, Dobby ran over to bring some food.  
"He's never upset, isn't he?" asked Harry.  
"Well, it's better for him not to," replied Hermione, standing up, gazing at the busy house-elves.  
"I wish poor Winky was like him though," proclaimed Harry, sadly. "When is she ever going to change?"  
"I don't know," answered Hermione, then interrupted by Dobby, who returned with two plates in both of is trembling hands.  
"Thanks Dobby, it's a bit too much for a snack," commented Harry, taking the two plates from the left hand, leaving Hermione to fetch the other two.   
"Harry Potter and his friend is most welcome sir! Would sir and miss like some Butterbeer?"  
"Two Butterbeers wouldn't do much harm," Harry nodded his head in agreement.  
At once, Dobby dashed away, to bring the Butterbeers. A few seconds later, he returned, with one Butterbeer in each hand, the lids were opened, and the foamy Butterbeer came out, staining the shiny floor.   
"Oh Dobby, couldn't you at least walk? Why do you need to run?" asked Harry, pointing his wand at the floor. "Scourgify!" The floor was sparkling once again.  
"Thank you sir! You could have left it to Dobby! He is knowing how to clean the floor sir."   
"Allow me," said Harry politely, as he pulled a chair to seat Hermione on a table. She glanced at him fervently.  
"Thanks Harry," replied Hermione, smiling at him.

For half an hour, Harry and Hermione enjoyed their little meal, that turned out to be big.  
"I'm full!" said Harry, stretching his hands in the air.  
"This is very tasty food they make," declared Hermione, taking a last sip of her foamy Butterbeer.  
Finally, the two were finished from eating.  
"Goodbye! Do visit us again sir and miss!" said Dobby, waving to the two, as they waved back.  
"Wow, now, I couldn't dare place another bite in my mouth," muttered Harry, as he and Hermione climbed up the stairs, heading to their common room.  
Somebody has just found them; he was looking awfully exhausted from running a long distance.   
"There you are!" shouted a loud voice. It was Ron.  
"Hello Ron," said the two.  
"I've been looking for you all over the place. First, I checked the common room, thinking that you headed me off. Then, I went to Snape's class, when I thought you'd come look for me. After that, I went to the crammed library; I thought..."  
"Ron," said Hermione in distraction, "we're here now. It's allright!"  
"Right," mumbled Ron weakly, as the three of them found their way to the common room.

"Harry! Hermione! Ron! Where've you been?" came the shaking excited voice of Neville, as soon as the door sprang open.  
"Hi," answered Hermione right away. "Harry and I were in the kitchens, having a snack, or more likely, a full big meal. Ron was serving detention with Snape."  
"I see, " began Neville, sitting down on the armchair. "Listen, guess what's on the notice board?"  
"What?" asked Harry, mystified.  
"Hogsmeade trip, tomorrow!"  
"Oh, great!" shouted Ron. "We can go to Honeydukes and Zonko's jokeshop then."  
"Is that all you're worried about? Isn't there something more significant?" asked Hermione, not even noticing Ron's reaction. She sat down, by the fire, reading the Daily Prophet, scanning an article about how the Ministry of Magic has been happy ever since Dumbledore became Minister of Magic.  
Meanwhile, Harry and Ron enjoyed a little game of Gobstones, in which Harry won luckily. The common room was beginning to become calmer than usual, when students started going to bed. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had no other choice but to sleep, because they needed their energy for tomorrow.  
"Goodnight," said Hermione to the two, climbing up the stairs, and heading to the girls' dormitory.  
"Night," replied Harry and Ron, their eyes half open, and filled with sleep.

Finally, the sun of Saturday morning shone behind the far horizon, sending its warm tickling rays to the Gryffindor common room, lightning it up, and waking up the students.   
"Come on Ron, get up!" Harry was desperate for Ron to wake up; he turned out to be worse than Dudley while sleeping. The blanket was on the floor, and his right leg was on the ground while the left one was folded up. His mouth was slightly opened, revealing only a little portion of the dark smelly inside.  
"Ron!" screamed Harry; Neville, Seamus, and Dean jumped out of their beds at that scream.  
"What?" At last, Ron awoke, still yawning though. Unfortunately, he hit Harry, unintentionally of course, on the nose with a strong closed fist.  
"You idiot!" yelled Harry in pain, then wiping off the blood from his bleeding nose.  
Ron got out of bed, and looked closely at Harry, his sight catching the dry blood beneath his left nostril.  
"Sorry, did I do that?"  
"No, Voldemort did it," replied Harry sarcastically. Ron, as usual, flinched at the sound of the name, which increased Harry's anger.  
"Come on, Hogsmeade trip today, we must get ready. The train leaves at eight thirty!" claimed Harry.  
Suddenly, Harry and Ron's conversation was interrupted by a soft voice standing meters away.  
"Good morning! Get ready, meet you in the Great Hall for breakfast!" it was Hermione, leaning against the door of the boys' dormitory.  
"What are you doing here? This is a boys' dormitory!" said Ron, puzzled a bit, as he raised his eyebrows.  
"It doesn't matter why I am here. What matters is that you'll be late if you don't hurry up. Besides, you've previously known that wizards and withces of the old times thought that girls were more trustworthy than boys, so, here I am," replied Hermione, disappearing from the door of the dormitory.  
Ron shook his head, and then quickly got dressed up, joining Harry to the Great Hall.

As always, the Great Hall was crammed with students on the four house tables. The teachers were at the front, eating their breakfast. Unluckily though, Professor Dumbledore wasn't there, due to business with the Ministry of Magic.  
"Eat quickly," instructed Hermione, as the trio sat down on a bench.  
"What's the matter with you?" started Ron, annoyed. "Is someone mad with a stick right behind you, getting ready to hit?"  
"Shut up, Ron," muttered Hermione confidently, "and start eating. You want to go to Hogsmeade today, don't you? Or would you rather stay in the library researching Muckroots for Herbology?"  
She said that, knowing Ron's response.  
"Yeah, but..."  
"Will you stop fighting?" asked Harry gently, as he spread some butter on his French toast.

Twenty minutes later, the whole Great Hall fell deep in conversation about Hogsmeade. The trio congregated in the hall, in which Mr. Filch always stood, to check their Hogsmeade forms. Nastily as always, he shot the students a dirty disgusting disapproving look, as they went away.  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron finally got into the train, which was heading to Hogsmeade right away. The driver waited till the last bit of students hopped in, and then started moving the engine.  
Harry was seated beside Hermione, and in the opposite side, Ron, Neville, and Ginny.  
"I'm so keen to get to Hogsmeade," started Neville, "I need to get a new plant from WaterLily, to add a bit of decoration to our dormitory."  
"Honestly Neville, are plants all you worry about?" asked Ron, snorting.  
"Ron, is food all you worry about?" interrupted Hermione, shutting Ron up.

At last, the snowy cold Hogsmeade came into sight. As the students hopped off the train, Harry, Hermione, and Ron waved goodbye to Neville and Ginny, which were joining their fellow Gryffindor sixth and fifth years to Honeydukes.  
The trio walked in the heavy snow, glancing at the shops that were there since before they were born. Harry set a look at the Hog's Head, catching a glimpse of Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, with her gang of girls, drinking some coffee to warm them up. He also saw Draco Malfoy, along with Crabbe and Goyle at The Three Broomsticks. Ron saw a bunch of third and fourth years falling on the ground, laughing as hard as they could, after a joke they saw at Zonko's Joke Shop. Then, Hermione set her eyes on a small golden colored shop she'd never seen before. Some red smoke was coming out of the small chimney on the roof, and there were pictures of two red headed boys she was sure she has seen before, dancing on the corners of a banner hanged on top of the entrance door.  
"Harry! Ron!" she said, turning their attention to her. "Look!"  
Harry and Ron moved forward a bit, to set a closer look on the shop.  
"The Golden Wheezer Joke Shop," read Harry. The words were written in bright green, to stand out, having a golden background.  
"Let's go see what they've got over there," commented Ron, and at once, the trio walked over to the shop.  
They rubbed their heavy boots over the snowy carpet, and pushed the door open. The smell of joking and humor came into their lungs. At once, dozens of joke materials came into view. Pots, sweets, chocolates, hats, papers, candies, and lots of other unknown stuff. The three heard somebody's footsteps walking down the stairs in a hurry, to check who stepped into their shop.  
Clunk, clunk, clunk...  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron's eyes almost popped out when they who it was. They had their jaws wide open.  
"Blimey! George come here!" It was Fred Weasley, who previously left Hogwarts joining his twin brother for some jokeshop business they planned a long time ago, ever since Harry gave them his Tournament winnings at the end of fourth year. They succeeded in achieving their mighty goal.  
"Fred! George!" screamed Ron, as he saw the twin brothers that he hasn't seen for over four months. They kept their own business secret; they never mailed their family in the Burrow or Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place during summer.  
"Easy, brother, or you'll squeeze us to death," claimed George painful; he winced as Ron hugged him and Fred.  
"Wow!" started Harry, amazed. "Nice shop you've got here!"  
"If it hadn't been for your tournament winnings, which were one thousand brilliant blessed galleons, we couldn't have done it!" said Fred, smiling.  
"When did you start building this place?" asked Hermione, so happy with the gleaming jokeshop.  
"Remember last year when we jumped onto our brooms, and flew away from Hogwarts, escaping Umbridge?" asked George.  
"Yes," answered the three.  
"Well, Fred suggested returning to Grimmauld Place, to visit Mom,"   
"However, my tricky twin brother preferred going to Hogsmeade, to meet some workers that would construct our shop just as we wanted it to be," continued on Fred.  
"Indeed, we arrived here, and straight away went looking for workers," added George.  
"We stayed in the Hog's Head all the time, of course after summoning our belongings from Hogwarts, which turned out to be torn. You see, we think that Umbridge wanted some revenge," said Fred, laughing.  
"But don't worry," George went on, " we sent her a few dungbombs the following evening. Probably, that's why she escaped from the hospital wing the following night as we were told in a letter. I bet Peeves gave her hell from us, didn't he?"   
"More than you ever imagined," answered Ron, remembering the humorous Peeves.  
"Oh, we missed you so much. We lost the joking spirit of Fred and George Weasley at Hogwarts, so it became a bit boring without you," claimed Hermione.  
"Thank you, we missed you ladies too!" said George.  
Harry's eyes caught something near him, which seemed weird.  
"What's that?" he asked, mystified, pointing at the unknown object.  
It was a lollypop, with a pinkish color, and some thread coming out of the middle of the top.  
"Oh, that!" said Fred, giving George a wink. "It's Cockroach Legs. Try it, it's on the house this time!"  
"Ok," replied Harry, reluctantly. He wasn't sure that he has made a right decision to eat that weird lollypop. He grabbed it slowly, and placed it in his dry mouth. He started chewing it, just like chewing-gum. For moments nothing happened. Then, without warning, the threads that came out of the middle starting moving in his mouth, tickling the inside. He started laughing like a maniac when the threads kept tickling his gum, and tongue. Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George were laughing at him too, watching him pathetically trying to get the lollypop out of his mouth. However, he didn't manage to pull it out, but instead, it pulled itself through Harry's throat. Oops! He swallowed it!  
"Now it'll tickle your whole stomach!" George went on.  
"Just joking, mate," apologized Fred. By that, Harry was relieved. For the remainder of trip, they sat down with the two crazy jokers asking them about their new inventions. They invented quite a few things. The Frogcontrol, a candy shaped like a frog, when eaten, makes the person hop all over the place like a frog. The Shrinking orange juice, a fluid that when drunk, makes the person shrink to the size of an orange. A new version of Fever Fudge, and the vanishing hat, and lots more of their brilliant creation.  
"Your business is no doubt reaching the top. Have you had any visitors yet?" asked Ron.  
Fred and George laughed at that.  
"More than we ever dreamed of," answered Fred. Then, he got out of his seat, opening the cash register. Ron took a look inside, not believing how much gold was stored in there. He let out a soft sigh, and then turned to look at Harry and Hermione, raising his eyebrows.  
"That's right, little bro, twelve thousand knuts, five hundred sickles, and one thousand four hundred an seventy two galleons, " commented Fred, grinning.  
"Whoa!" shouted Harry and Hermione together.  
Fred and George must have been geniuses to create these wonderful amazing joking materials.  
It was time for the trio to leave, after they checked their watches.  
"Bye!" said the three, waving at the two twins.  
"See you next Hogsmeade trip!" shouted Fred and George.  
At those words, the door was opened, and the three left the Golden Wheezer Joke Shop.

"Very thrilling, how they got to do all of this!" said Hermione.  
"I'd never thought they would actually succeed!" continued Ron.  
"I know," started Harry, "it was very exciting."

Several minutes later, the three congregated around the train, getting ready to return to Hogwarts.  
They had such a nice time.


	22. Percy's Wedding

The soft breeze of the cold Christmas crept through the windows and corridors of the great castle, filling everybody's spirits with delight, happiness, and love. For one thing, the students have now got their biggest chance to be relieved from the tremendous amount of schoolwork. Many were leaving, but only a few stayed.

"Good morning," muttered Ron, as he joined Harry and Hermione for breakfast. He was still rubbing his eyes. Apparently, he didn't have much sleep last night.  
"Morning," replied Harry, chewing some toast with jam.  
"Merry Christmas," mumbled Ron, sitting down. His voice seemed to be a mono-tone.  
"Happy Christmas," said Hermione, setting Ron a close look, "are you sick?"  
He raised an eyebrow at her, and then spoke.  
"A bit...I guess," he answered weakly.  
"You should go to the hospital wing then," advised Harry, as he drank his orange juice, "maybe it's something with your throat that's wrong, or..."  
"Maybe," replied Ron, and laughed at his situation.  
"Hey," started Hermione, "have some tea."  
"Will you fellow stop telling me what to do?" asked Ron. "If this gets any worse, I will go to the Hospital Wing happily, I'm not stupid."  
"Allright," said Harry, "we're just giving you some advice. Right?"  
Hermione nodded.

The Great Hall, as always, has been decorated with trees, Christmas Lights, and many other things that happened every year at Hogwarts. Pity most of the students weren't here.   
Suddenly, a flock of something big and brown soared in the air above the four house-tables. Mail time!  
Although there weren't many students currently at Hogwarts, over fifty were still there , probably doing homework.  
A very familiar hoot came from over ten feet in the air. Ron looked up, and saw Errol, the clumsy unfortunate family owl, carrying a letter to him from home.  
"What it is this time?" he asked, as he helped Errol, who bumped into a tray of muffins. "Probably another maroon jacket from Mom."  
"Ron," began Hermione, grinning, "how can you be so stupid? How in the world would a jacket fit in this small parcel?"  
Hermione was right. Sometimes, when Ron got used to the things he was always sent, he couldn't forget them. He imagined them being sent to him in any way possible, even in a letter.  
"Right," nodded Ron in agreement.  
He opened the parcel, and saw the neat big writing of his mother.  
It was about seven or eight lines long. As Ron read the next line, his eyebrows rose higher and higher, and a weird expression appeared on his face...irritation and disparagement.  
"What is it?" asked Harry politely; Ron didn't answer. He sort of frowned, and then sighed.  
"Ron? What's the matter? Is there something wrong?" added Hermione in curiosity.  
"Worse than wrong," he claimed, "Percy's getting married!"  
At those very words, Harry an Hermione glanced at each other, looking very surprised.  
"WHAT?" yelled Harry, his smile widening.  
"Why are you so happy?" smirked Ron. "The slimy git...abandons our family...sides with Fudge...says our father was wrong...and now he's getting married!"  
"Well that's good, isn't it?" complimented Hermione. "He's finally done with the horrible Ministry work."  
"Yes, sure, he's done," mumbled Ron angrily, "done...after resigning when he knew Dumbledore became Minister of Magic this summer."  
"He did what?" shouted Harry, stunned. He knew that Percy was the biggest possible and imaginable source of nuisance to Ron, but...gave up when he knew Dumbledore took charge of the Ministry?  
"Rotten git," continued Ron, "I've always known that he was a spoiled egg. And guess what? Mother has invited me...no...insisted that I come to his lousy wedding at Grimmauld Place."  
Harry's looks changed sympathetically. He understood and knew how Ron felt. However, Percy was a good friend of his. Two years ago, he helped him with a few points to win the Tournament. He always asked how Harry was, and cared about him. Only a year ago, when Cornelius Fudge, ex-Minister of Magic, started all these Ministry decrees at Hogwarts, preventing students from believing that Lord Voldemort has returned, Percy decided to join him, and be there to his aid. He couldn't afford to lose such a job at the Ministry.  
"Honestly Ron," started Hermione, "I know how you may feel. But... well... this is a very important family issue, and you've got to be there for you brother, to congratulate him on his wedding, and to bless it..."  
"You mean my nemesis," interrupted Ron, breathing heavily.  
"No, Percy's your brother. And you've got to attend his wedding, or else...your seat will be taken at Grimmauld Place."  
"I don't care if my seat is taken. I don't count him as a brother, the bossy hag...giving me advice about me not taking Fred and George's route. Well, look at them; they've got a fortune! All because of that little joke-shop idea of their's, that turned out to be a great success!"  
Harry looked at him, with the most fervent feelings.  
"Ron," he started calmly, "you have to go there. Think of all the things he's done to you."  
"I can't think of any," said Ron, grinning.  
"This it Ron," muttered Harry, " either you go, or I'll make you do it. Look, for friendship's sake, just go, ok? Tell you what, Hermione and I will come too."  
Hermione nodded. Although she wasn't quite sure she was going to go, she made up her mind. In reality, she fancied visiting Mrs. Weasley, and talk to her about the strange attacks the occurred at Hogwarts. She also wanted to hear from her about her busy husband, Arthur Weasley, and how the Ministry is still trying to track Voldemort's death-eaters. Hermione just, missed her, for she was good as a mother.  
"Oh fine with me, I give up. I'll go," said Ron, nibbling the rest of his cheese.  
"Good," said Harry, clapping Ron on the back.

"You're so easy," Hermione laughed at him.  
Then, a red headed fifth year girl, came walking along the Gryffindor house-table.  
"Happy Christmas!" It was Ginny, Ron's younger and only sister.  
"Hello Ginny," he answered.  
"Merry Christmas," replied Harry and Hermione together.  
"Have you received presents? I didn't have any," proclaimed Ginny.  
"Sure, why would you?" asked Ron, grinning at her.  
"Hello, it's Christmas!"  
"I know it is. What I meant to say was that of course you wouldn't receive any presents from home...with Mom busy with Percy' wedding..."  
At once, Ginny eye's bulged out, and she dropped her heavy Transfiguration book.  
"What was that you said?" she looked horrified.  
"Yeah, I know, " said Ron, picking up her book, and giving it back to her, "it came as a shock to me too, Ginny."  
"How? When?" She seemed full of questions.  
Ron turned to Harry and Hermione.  
"Friends, would you mind explaining?"  
They smiled at him.  
"No problem," they answered.

The afternoon went by, faster than ever, to Ron' dismay. The wedding was scheduled to be at six o'clock back in Grimmauld Place. It was now three o'clock, and Ron hasn't woken up form his nap yet.  
"Ron, " began Harry, pulling of his untidy blanket, "will you get up? You've got to take a bath, and wear the best suit you've got."  
"Later," muttered Ron vaguely.  
Harry was fed up with Ron; he was sick of waking him up.  
"GET UP! NOW!" His voice echoed all over the Gryffindor Common room.  
Ron jumped out of his bed, scared of Harry's behavior.  
"What's the matter with you? Aren't you getting enough sleep?" asked Harry, and then disappearing from Ron's sight. He couldn't believe how irresponsible Ron was; he was even made a prefect. This was a very important family occasion, and he thinks it's like a matter of loosing in a game of chess.

Half an hour later, Ron finally came down to the Gryffindor Common Room, in his best suit possible. It made him look a bit handsome. He has his hair combed well, and his face washed.  
"Look who's here," said Ginny, looking at her brother.  
"Shut it Ginny, it took me an hour and a half to get ready for departure," said Ron, sitting on the armchair opposite to Harry.  
For several minutes, the common room sank in boredom and silence, when Hermione appeared out of her dormitory.  
"Whoa!" said Ron, at the sight of Hermione. She wore a pair of dark bluish-purplish jeans, glittering and shining, and a yellow cotton shirt, covered with a long sleeve black leather jacket. Her hair, which had a few stripes of blonde in it, frequently moved up and down as she descended the stairs. Harry thought he caught a glimpse of what seemed like a pair of golden earrings, dangling down her ear. She had some light red lipstick on, too. She even wore a diamond necklace, to decorate the neck. She looked fantastic.  
"How do I look?" She had her right hand on her waist, and the other playing with her hair.  
"Stunningly beautiful! Amazing! Thrilling! Wonderful! Very elegant..." began Harry, so stunned by Hermione's sudden beauty.  
"Nice earrings," commented Ron, shocked.  
"Whoa, stop before you run out of adjectives. Do you really think I look good?" she was quite uncertain of her fair appearance. It was just new to her.  
"Yes, of course, " said Harry, swallowing a lump, and becoming speechless.  
"Where did you ever get this...muggle suit?" asked Ron.  
"I bought it last summer. You see, Mom and Dad noticed that most of my outifts were getting a few inches short, so, we went out shopping in some of those huge malls, and they got me this, " explained Hermione, looking at herself in a small mirror. Her reflection emerged from the mirror. Even she was surprised at the sight of herself.  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, looking a bit surprised herself.  
"Well," she started, "this is my new look guys. Anyway, how will we be getting to Grimmauld Place?"  
Still staring at Hermione's whole new appearance, Harry answered.  
"I talked to Dumbledore about it. He said that we could go to his office, and use a portkey to transfer us to there. Of course, if we were seventh years, we could've easily Apparated, but...let's go," said Harry, looking at his watch, "or we'll be late."  
Immediately, the four friends crept out of the Gryffindor common room, heading to the headmaster's office, so happy about Percy's wedding. Actually, they wanted to see Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley, to have a nice little chat with them about work.

The large stone gargoyle came into the four friends' view, waiting for the password.  
"Pumpkin juice," said Harry quickly. Immediately, the gargoyle came to life, and began spinning. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stepped onto the stairs, rising up in the air.  
At last, the movement of the gargoyle ceased, and a beautiful golden colored circular office filled the four friends' eyes. They climbed a few stairs, when they heard an old man's voice calling them in.  
"Professor Dumbledore, sir," began Harry.  
"Hello Harry," replied Professor Dumbledore, as usual, wearing his old half-moon spectacles.  
"I see that you've finally come to be transferred using a portkey," continued Professor Dumbledore.  
"Yes," replied the four, smiling.  
"Very well then," Professor Dumbledore went on," step inside here please."  
He directed them into a smaller office inside this big one, and they noticed that it contained several closets. Harry then saw something shiny and silver, placed at the top shelf.  
"The Pensieve!" he began, intrigued by the thought collector. "How well I remember."  
Professor Dumbledore nodded; he understood Harry quite clearly.  
"Yes, my dear Harry, the Pensieve, the tool in which all your thoughts that fill your mind are emptied,"  
"I wish I had one," commented Ginny. Professor Dumbledore's old friendly face smiled at her.  
"Now then," he began, "you all know how to use a portkey. Just place your hands on the Pensieve at three."  
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny got ready.  
"Oh, and before you go," said Professor Dumbledore, giving them a wink" please send my best wishes to Percy Weasley, and may God bless his marriage."  
Ron frowned at the name of Percy.   
"Right then," muttered Professor Dumbledore," one...two...three!"  
At once, eight hands , two from each of the four, touched the tip of the Pensieve. They began swirling in air, spinning quickly. The sight of Professor Dumbledore faded away slowly, as it became darker.  
Finally, the four reached an old ancient house, the house of Black. It once belonged to Sirius's family, but now it's been used as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Harry recalled how it looked like a year ago, when he was a fifth year. Dusty, filled with hatred of mudbloods, filthy, and full of doxies. However, now, its whole appearance changed. From the outside, it was decorated with colored lights, red, blue, orange, green, purple, yellow, gold, emerald green, and lots of other colors. The chimney was fixed, and the whole house smelled better. Through the windows, Harry could see the inside, being so warm and lit with fire.  
The four reached the door, and rang the door bell. Seconds after that, came the loud shrieks and noises of Mrs. Blacks' portrait that had a permanent sticking charm on it.  
The door opened, and the smell of fresh cakes and muffins satisfied the four's appetite.   
"Oh my dears, how wonderful to see you," it was Mrs. Weasley, hugging them tightly. As always, she perfectly well knew haw to welcome guests. Along with her own son and daughter, Harry and Hermione were like her own son and daughter.  
"Come in my dears, come in. I'm so glad that you've come to join us in Percy's wedding tonight,"  
"Big Head Boy, " mumbled Ron, grinning at Harry, Hermione, and Ginny.  
The four entered to sit in a big room, the main living room. It had rows of seats in it, just incase many visitors came. The seats were so comfortable, that they made Harry sort of become dizzy.  
"Muffins?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she carried the tray to the four, beaming at them.  
"Thank you," said the four, and took some bites out of the freshly baked muffins.  
As Harry chewed on his third muffin, something swirled in his mind.  
"Mrs. Weasley," he began, as she turned to him, "who's the lucky woman?"  
By that, he meant the bride that was going to be wedded to Percy.  
"Penelope Clearwater, Harry," answered Mrs. Weasley, and went off to the kitchens to get some Butterbeer.  
"I knew it," said Ron, "she's been his girlfriend at Hogwarts, remember?"  
"Yes," answered Harry, clearly having a flashback about when Ginny claimed that she caught her brother kissing her. It kind of made him laugh.   
Moments later, two funny voices echoed all over the living rooms.   
"Hello mates, nice to see you here,"  
The fours' attention was totally distracted, as they saw the two deceiving twins appear out of thin air.  
"Fred! George! What are you doing here? I thought you had to watch over your joke-shop," said Harry happily.  
"Naah, we took a day off," started Fred.  
"Besides, this is one big thing to attend. Big Head Boy's wedding!" continued George, chuckling.  
Ron joined them for a laugh. Hermione laughed too; it was their favorite way of making fun of Percy.  
"So, where are Bill and Charlie? Aren't they coming..." but Harry was interrupted by a pair of other two voices he recognized, coming from the entrance door, discussing something about raising the goblins' paychecks at Gringotts.  
"Honestly Bill, why would you..."it was Charlie's voice. He was the amazing legendary Quidditch player at Hogwarts several years ago, and now he worked with dragons at Romania.  
"Harry! Hermione! Ginny! And ickle Ronnie are here! How wonderful!" this was Bill, the cool Weasley son, with long hair, and a pair of dragon-like earrings.  
"Hello Bill, and Charlie," stated Harry, shaking their hands.  
"It's so great to see you guys," commented Charlie, "so, you cared for a visit, huh?"  
"But of course," started Hermione, smiling," it's our duty to celebrate Percy's wedding."  
Charlie and Bill looked at each other, frowning.  
"Pity, for all these months he left us...even resigned when he knew Dumbledore took charge of the Ministry," began Charlie sadly.  
"His job totally controlled him, and Fudge was his perfect model," continued Bill.  
Harry and the others nodded in agreement, because he had a point.

For the next fifteen minutes, Harry and his friends had a nice chat with Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie. Until at last, Percy appeared from upstairs.  
"Hello kids," he started, with a wide smile on his face.  
"Kids?" mumbled Ron angrily. "Who does he think he is? The bossy big head boy!"  
"I would like to thank you for...um...attending my wedding," apparently, he had practice on this speech, but he still was sweating, "it really means a lot to me...and I'm...I'm very sorry that I left my family for the past couple of months...I...I didn't mean to...but, well...I had to finish some business with the ex-Minister of Magic, after resigning...I thought that I...I'd be happier to live with my fiancé than to work at the Ministry, still...I hope that I get a new job...someday."  
Sweat drops were falling down his nose. Ron grinned at him, so did Harry and Hermione.  
Then, the door sprang open, and a bunch of witches and wizards came in. First, came Mr. Weasley. Second, Nymphadora Tonks. Third, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Then came Professor McGonagall. Behind her, was Professor Snape, surprisingly. Behind him, came Professor Lupin, the amazing Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and finally, the ex-Auror, Mad Eye Moody.  
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stood up to greet them and shake their hands. At once, they were seated. The lights were dimmer now, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came to the front.   
"Dear friends, it is our pleasure to thank you for joining us on this very happy occasion, the marriage of our son, Percy," spoke the happy Mr. Weasley.  
"He's been such a wonderful obedient boy for all these years. It seems only yesterday that he received his letter from Hogwarts," continued Mrs. Weasley, who had tears of joy in her eyes.  
"How well I remember Percy, being so young in age, and learning the brands of magic," said Mr. Weasley, smiling at the audience.  
"However," Mrs. Weasley went on, taking a deep breath, "tonight is a night, containing happiness and grief together. It's true. How wonderful it is, when lovers get married. And yet...how painful it is to give away a member of the family."  
She held a handkerchief to her eyes, and wiped off some of the salty hot tears.  
"And now," said Mr. Weasley, turning his back to the audience, and facing his own son Percy," is the moment, when our young Percy, starts a new generation and family, that holds the name of Weasley."  
He slowly approached his own son.  
"Son, congratulations, and may God bless these wonderful moments," At those words, the father and son hugged each other, tightly as never before.

Then, into the dimly lit room, came a handsome and fair girl, covered entirely with white, that was destined to be Percy's wife. She sort of waved at the audience, and joined Percy. She was absolutely conspicuous between everyone, wearing the floor length white wedding gown.  
Professor Lupin got out of his seat, and stepped forward, standing between Percy and Penelope.  
"Dear lovers," he started, "we are gathered here today to..."  
"Remus," started Mr. Weasley, "would mind skipping this part. Can you please go on?"  
Professor Lupin nodded, his smile curving, just as Snape did sometimes.  
"Pleasure," he went on. "Do you Percy Arthur Weasley take Penelope Zak Clearwater as your beloved wife till the last day of your life, when death separates you?"  
"I do," replied Percy, looking Penelope in the eye.  
"And do you, Penelope Zak Clearwater take Percy Arthur Weasley as your beloved husband till the last day of your life when death separates you?"  
Instantly, she replied, "Yes, I do."  
"God bless you, and I announce you married in front of all," Professor Lupin turned his head to Percy, "you may kiss the bride."  
Percy was pink for a moment, and then he leaned over to kiss Penelope. It was done at last! He was married! The whole room was filled with the loud noises of applauding.  
Harry was clapping so hard that he didn't feel his hand. Hermione was cheering too. Ron and Ginny went over to hug him, and say goodbye, until they meet again, after Percy' honeymoon is over. Ron couldn't hold himself, he had to congratulate his brother.  
"Goodbye Perce," said Ron, " I hate to admit it, but I love you!"  
"I love you too, little brother," replied Percy, rubbing Ron's back sympathetically.  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were in deep tears of happiness, both holding each others hands.  
"Goodbye Mom, goodbye Dad," said Percy, crying softly.  
"Very well son," muttered Mr. Weasley," until we meet again."

Percy smiled one last time, and then, he and Penelope both dis-Apparated.   
"They're gone!" shouted Ginny, as she hugged Ron.  
"I know," he mumbled, as Ginny's tears fell from her watery eye, "they'll be back soon, though."


	23. Forbets

"What a celebration!" commented Hermione, as the four left using a portkey to get them back to Hogwarts.  
The four found themselves back at the great castle, in front of the Fat Lady's Portrait.   
"Mandrake root," spoke Hermione, and at once, the door sprang open.  
Each of the four headed straight to their dormitories. They had the perfect time of their life! Ron was first to reach his dormitory; he was so tired he could've slept for two days, which left Harry and Hermione.  
"See you tomorrow," added Harry, as he climbed up the stairs. "By the way Hermione, you looked very pretty tonight."  
Hermione smiled at him.  
"Thank you Harry," she replied slowly, "you looked handsome too."  
For moments, Harry's eyes didn't move, and kept focusing on Hermione's friendly face.  
"Goodnight," Hermione waved goodbye, and closed her dormitory's door behind her, which made a tiny crack. Harry slowly entered to see Neville, Seamus, and Dean fast asleep in their beds, while Ron was adjusting to his bed. Harry changed into his pyjamas, and crept into his bed, soundly.   
Harry glanced at the shiny star in the dark cloudy sky, and wished luck for Percy and Penelope. And for another thing, he couldn't help think about Hermione, who looked extremely beautiful in that muggle suit. Harry like her very much, because they were best friends since first year. However, now, he kept thinking about her constantly; he couldn't get her out of his mind. He wondered, could this be... love? Silently, he sank into the darkness, and fell fast asleep, his mind crammed with thoughts and wonders.

Next morning, Harry was perfectly prepared for his first lesson of the day, Defence Against the Dark Arts. Today, he was scheduled to teach his fellow Gryffindor Sixth years, and to his annoyance, the Slytherin sixth years, about deceiving and tricky creatures, called Forbets. These were tricky magical creatures, shaped like a wisp of smoke, that would vanish and disappear, and then, they reappear again behind a person, slowly though, scaring him to death, by taking the form of a mummy. Yes, these creatures were founded first in ancient cemeteries and pyramids in Egypt. Although Harry never experienced these creatures before, or had the slightest idea about them in the last five years, it was in the book, "Force Your Way Through Dark Paths", that was to be taught to the sixth years. So, it was his duty to read the chapter about Forbets, and understand it. Secretly, he has practised finishing off Forbets near the dungeons of the castle. Most likely, they prefer low places, that are near the ground. Harry learned that to finish off the Forbets, he had to take good care in following some important steps. First, at the sight of him, the Forbet will definitely vanish. Second, seconds before it reappears behind a person, some yellow shadow emerges from the ground the person is standing on, sort of flickering, and then stops when the Forbet transforms into a mummy. Therefore, the only way to drive a Forbet away, was to quickly light a fire on the flickering yellow shadow moving on the ground. That way, the Forbet will go through deep pain, and then leaves.

"Good morning," said Hermione, as she carried four heavy textbooks, placing them in her bag.  
"Hello," replied Harry at once, as the two walked through the corridors. He still was shocked by how pretty Hermione looked yesterday, as though they were still at Percy's Wedding. He couldn't get her out of his mind anymore.  
"So," began Hermione, smiling, "what are we doing today?"  
Harry walked slower, and turned to her.  
"Um..." he started, he thought of telling her about the Forbets, but he decided to keep it as a surprise, "it's a surprise."  
She raised her eyebrows at him.  
"Why?"  
"You'll see when we get there," said Harry, looking straightforward.  
"What are you going to teach us Harry? Speak!" Hermione insisted that he tells her.  
"I'm not going to tell you!" Harry grinned at her, as he found it amusing to do such thing and keep her waiting.   
"Harry! Don't make me lose my temper!"  
The Defence Against the Dark Arts' class appeared to Harry and Hermione's sight.  
"Fine," Harry gave up now," you'll play with Forbets today!"  
"For...sorry, what was that?" asked Hermione.  
"Forbets," explained Harry, his smile curving and widening at her "deceiving bits of wisps of smoke that can be invisible and turn into mummies suddenly! Happy now?"  
"Oh! I like dealing with those! I've read about them in chapter nineteen! I find them highly tricky! It'll be great to deal with them in reality rather than in books!"  
"Big deal," said Harry, moving his glasses up his nose.  
Hermione had a feeling that something...or someone...was missing...Ron.  
"Harry?" she began calmly. "Where's Ron?"  
"Funny you should mention him," he went on, "he talked to me this morning when I woke up, he's got a fever, and thought it might be for the best to rest in the Hospital Wing. Can't be blame him though...the change in weather from here to Grimmauld Place must've raised his fever seven degrees higher, and he was already sick."  
Hermione nodded. Harry was right; sometimes, Ron was so stubborn and ignorant, and wouldn't listen even to his best friends' advice.

The class was half full when Harry and Hermione entered; some students were out in the grounds throwing snowballs at each other for fun. They only had ten minutes till the school day begins.  
Harry went over to his desk, and sat down, getting out the last rolls of parchment, on which the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth years had to do their last homework, that was due three days ago. Harry managed to correct most of the papers, but a few were left without a grade. So, he used this chance to correct the last rolls of parchment, before class was ready.

Ten minutes later, the remainder of the class showed up at last, to begin the lesson.  
"Shut the door behind you please, Malfoy," said Harry, over the heads of students.

Quickly, Malfoy slammed the door shut, gave Harry an evil cruel look, and sat down between Crabbe and Goyle. Of course, Harry knew Malfoy's reaction whenever he saw him. Harry was like dirt and dung to him, which he loathed more than anything else in the whole wide world.  
"Good morning class,"  
"Good morning," replied the tired sleepy class.  
"Now, I'll pass out your homework that was due three days ago," began Harry, a handful of golden soft parchment in his hands, "I must say that you did fairly well. Oh, and I gave a couple of bonus marks to all who wrote extra facts, that were meaningful of course, and that we didn't mention in class."  
Harry was moving around the class quickly, his eye jumping from one student to the other. Everyone was impressed with their marks; Harry was such a good teacher, and offered the chances to help students if they needed it.   
The class was deep in discussion about their grades, and how they didn't expect to get those marvelous marks on the homework. However, as usual, Malfoy was having his own private chat with Crabbe and Goyle; apparently, he didn't pay attention to the piece of returned parchment, lying soundly on his desk, beside the thick textbook.  
"Allright," yelled Harry over the heads of the many students," please put your homework away, and let us begin the lesson."  
Several students put their excellent rated homework in their bags, books, or own notebooks, and then sat straight up, paying attention to Harry.  
"Today, we'll be dealing with tricky and cunning creatures, in fact, wisps of translucent smoke, called Forbets," started Harry enthusiastically.  
"Of course, I don't expect many of you to know about these deceiving creatures. Therefore, here's a little explanation," continued Harry, smiling at the class.  
"These wisps of smoke, come originally from ancient cemeteries and pyramids, found in far away Egypt," some of the Slytherins' expressions of excitement appeared on their curious faces, "it's true, they prefer living in low areas near the ground. Now, whenever they see a person, they attract their attention somehow, and then disappear. Shortly after vanishing, they reappear suddenly behind the person, taking the form of a mummy, and scare him away. It may not be easy to finish it off, because a Forbet that is turned into a mummy, is highly frightening, and gives you cold senses of loss and fear."  
"Many of you might suggest that the presence of a Forbet is similar to that of a Dementor, the scary soul sucking creature," at those words, the whole class winced. The presence of Dementor was almost like dying alive.  
"There is one way to finish a Forbet off, and drive him away from you. Forbets prefer darkness, and hate light, like Devil Snare. So, it is very useful to think at this stage of battle with a Forbet. Here is the solution. Shortly before a Forbet reappears behind you, you will notice some kind of yellowish flickering shadow dancing on the floor you're standing on. At this moment, you have to just act, without even thinking, because you'll be scared to death if you don't. You have to light a fire on the yellow shadow then. That way, the Forbet will go through the excruciating pain of the sight of pure white light, which is a combination of wand flames, and the shadow's yellow color. Eventually, it won't stand it, and it'll go away, leaving you behind until another Forbet comes another time seeking revenge."  
The majority of the class giggled, including Hermione, even Harry did. 

"And now," said Harry, holding a small cubic sort of music box, in his sweaty fist," a demonstration."  
Slowly and carefully, Harry lifted the top purple cover up. Quickly, a silvery translucent wisp of smoke ascended, and flew out of the box. It hovered for a moment, and then turned to Harry, grabbing his attention. He grabbed his wand firmly, which lay on the desk beside the bottle of ink, and got ready.  
The whole class witnessed the wisp of smoke disappearing from in front of Harry, and going into the unknown.  
"Watch closely," whispered Harry, vigilant for any sign of yellow shadow on the ground.  
Then, it happened, he felt some yellow light reflecting on his glasses. And when he lowered his head, he found a yellow shadow flickering, shaped like a ring. Without thinking, he muttered, "Lacarnum Inflamari". At once, flames were shot directly at the yellow shadow from the tip of his wand. There was ring of fire rising higher and higher, turning into blinding white flashes of light. The whole class held their hands up, to cover their eyes. Then, Harry heard the Forbet's cry from behind him, but did not turn around to see the awfully frightening mummy. He could see the cold creeps spreading through the class, making everyone's face turn pale. Momentarily, the ring of fire shot beams of pure white light at the horrifying mummy. Clearly, Harry heard the mummy's cry of pain and pleads for mercy. Moments later, he felt the mummy fade from his surrounding and stagger away. 

Harry took a deep breath, and took a look at the curious scared eyes of the class. Hermione, who was looking terribly pale, began clapping. Soon, the whole class was applauding, after Harry's brilliant performance of getting rid of the cunning Forbet. Harry was feeling loads better after they clapped, and came into reality again, after being almost unconscious from the fright of the Forbet.

"Wow!" shouted Dean Thomas. "That was excellent Harry!"  
"That was amazing Harry," added Seamus Finnigan.  
"Brilliant!" oddly, this was Sandra Sanderson, the Slytherin sixth year.  
Harry was lost in his mind; seeing each pupil clap as hard as they can cheered him.

"Thank you, thank you," Harry was bowing to the class, showing his respect, gratitude, and appreciation.

Later on, the applause subsided, until it eventually stopped.  
"Now," began Harry, pulling a briefcase out of a dark brown drawer," this is full of music boxes that contain Forbets. I don't want you to freak out, because if you lose control , the class won't be swarming with mummies, because I'll be getting rid of them by then. So, each one of you will kindly take a box, go to a corner or stay in his or her place, and start practicing. If you need any help, I'll be around you. And don't forget to act quickly the moment you see the yellow shadow. Good luck."  
Harry could discern the looks of worry and fright on the students' faces. However, they came forward to collect the music boxes.

He carefully observed how each student reacted to the Forbets, being so scared and frightened, they would've wet their pants. Over by the corner, he watched Malfoy's white blonde hair move back as the wind emerging from the music box moved him backwards. He smirked for a moment, and when the Forbet disappeared from his sight, he looked so worried, that he had his eyes wide open, careful for any sign of yellow shadow. Malfoy kept spinning around himself, looking closely to the floor in all directions. Suddenly, he saw it…the yellow shadow danced like leaves on a tree would. It was forming some sort of ring. At that moment, Malfoy was pretty stunned, and couldn't move. It was like his feet were a tree's roots, stuck to the ground. His eyes were wider now. However, he remembered what he had to do. Quickly, like a lightning bolt, he took out his wand, and murmured "Lacarnum Inflamari", pointing it at the ring of yellow shadow. Soon, he saw the fire blasted from his wand combine with the yellow shadow, forming a ring of pure blinding white light. The cries of the transformed Forbet (mummy) came from behind him. He dared not to turn around, but just wait till it vanished and staggered away. At last, the mummy strolled away, yelling loudly, like a starving lion would. Malfoy was calm again, but still in the last phase of his shock.  
Over by the third row, Harry watched Hermione get rid of the Forbet. She was certainly quick and clever to finish it off. Although she was pale at first, she later managed to get rid off it. Harry was quite impressed with her spectacular performance; she was the quickest in the class to get rid of the Forbet or perhaps the mummy. As always, Harry gave her a thumbs up, a wink, a smile, and moved to another corner.  
Overall, half of the total number of students succeeded in this rough task. Getting rid of a mummy who was originally a Forbet was very difficult and needed skills. Even Harry himself found difficulty when he first battled with the Forbet, before teaching the class about it. He now knew that it would come in N.E.W.Ts in his seventh year. He also wondered if he was going to take the Defence Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. examination; he had a feeling that he wouldn't be the teacher next year. Probably, Professor Dumbledore would've found another grown up teacher. And yet…and yet…how fancy it would be if Harry carried on being the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.  
"Well done, good job, all of you!" Harry gave this kind compliment, to all who have battled with the Forbets, even the ones who have failed. "I must say that today's practice was absolutely perfect for beginners. Don't you agree?"  
Several of the students nodded in agreement, except perhaps Malfoy, who had his head between his hands, trying to get into reality. It was like he was in some kind of trance, after fighting the mummy away.  
"And to those who failed to get rid of the mummy in the right time, I don't blame you, but you did a terrific job too," commented Harry kindly.  
Sighs came out of every tired mouth. Pain, fright, fear, and madness can take over a person, if they don't finish the transformed mummy in time. Everyone here, now, experienced this matter. What made it so frightening, even if the students didn't turn around to see the mummy's scary ugly face, was how cold it became. Just like the dementor's presence, the Forbet could frighten someone to death.  
"Well now, let me see…fifty points to Gryffindor and another fifty to Slytherin," this was the part where everybody liked most of the lesson. They almost jumped out of their places when they heard Harry add fifty points to each of the houses.

"Allright, I think we've had enough for today," said Harry, turning around to face the blackboard, "please copy this down, and by the way, it's due on Wednesday."  
With waves from his wand, letters, words, phrases, and sentences appeared on the undisturbed blackboard. It was their homework assignment.

The blackboard read:

_1-What is the creature a Forbet transforms into when reappearing?  
2- Where do Forbets come from?  
3- What do you set on fire to get rid of the Forbet?  
4- What is the Forbet's weakness?  
5- Where are Forbets usually stored when not set free?  
6- Give three examples of issues that occurred with famous witches and wizards, in which Forbets took over their mind: (See page 327)  
_

The homework assignment seemed quite easy to the majority of the class, except perhaps question six, in which they had to depend on themselves and read the chapter. 

"Um…" began Harry, taking a look at his watch, "there are only fifteen minutes left till the end of this lesson. So, kindly start on your homework."  
Obediently, but tired and weak, everybody took out their old quills and started answering the homework questions. Malfoy was so exhausted that he kept staring at the class clock, waiting desperately for the bell to ring and end this wearisome lesson.  
However, stunningly, Hermione was already done with the homework. She answered the questions while Harry as writing them down.  
Hermione slowly got out for her seat, held the roll of parchment, filled with tiny neat writing, and walked to the front of the class where Harry sat down on his chair, preparing his next lesson for the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years.  
"Here you are Harry," whispered Hermione softly, handing her homework in. Harry looked at the page full of writing, and then, he raised his head to look at Hermione.  
"You're finished?" he asked in amazement.  
"Yes, can't you see?" replied Hermione quickly.  
"I know, it's only that you're too quick. When did you have the chance to answer them?"  
"While you were writing," answered Hermione, taking a breath.  
Harry stared at her for a moment, smiling.  
"You're such a gifted girl," he complimented, taking out a quill to correct her homework.  
"Thank you Harry, and you're amazing too. Very excellent teacher, that's who you are," said Hermione confidently.  
Again, Harry stared at her. He was lost in those wonderful moments of time, looking at her beautiful lighted face. She definitely was the prettiest and smartest girl he's ever seen in his entire life. Cho Chang was and still is nothing compared to his best friend, Hermione. He recently realized that. Why haven't I noticed her before?—thought Harry to himself. 

The moments of silence were broken by the loud noise of the ringing bell.  
It was time for Harry to dismiss the class.  
"Dismissed," he said happily, "and mind you, do your homework, don't leave it till Tuesday night."  
Fleetingly, the class nodded, and then Crabbe and Goyle opened the door, to exit. Joining them was Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Sandra Sanderson, and a group of Slytherins. Following them, were the Gryffindors, including Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, and then at last, Harry and Hermione.  
Harry shut the door behind him, and then joined his fellow friends to their second lesson of the day. But he thought he saw something coming out of the keyhole…a puff of smoke.  
"What's that?" asked Hermione as she carefully approached the smoke.  
Harry studied it for some seconds, and then got his wand out.  
"It's a Forbet," he said calmly, " I bet you anything Malfoy left an extra music box open."  
"Well then, let's see you get rid of it!" said Hermione, excited.

Half a minute later, the wisp of smoke finally crept out of the keyhole, circled Harry for a moment, and then disappeared from his sight. Slowly, he took a few steps forward. He waited…but nothing happened. Then, he felt something shine his shoes. There, on the ground, danced the yellow flickering shadow. Immediately, he lowered his wand so that the tip of it would be inches above the ground, and said "Lacarnum Inflamari." His wand shot flames of fire to the ring of yellow shadow. The two sources of light an heat were interfering now. Hermione, who was right in front of Harry, shrieked, as she saw the mummy transforming behind Harry. Its face was green, greasy, and it was all covered with dirty torn bandages. Its eyes were red, like blood. It had a pointy nose, and two fangs coming out of the edges of the mouth. Hermione's face was white, and the hair on her hands stood up. Soon, there was a ring of white light, and this was the point where the mummy started crying from pain. The ring of pure white light shot beams at it, and then, Harry clearly heard the mummy's voice subsiding in intensity. At last, the mummy was gone.

Harry was on his knees, taking a deep breath, and putting his eyes back in focus. Hermione, still shocked, helped him up.  
"Did you see that?" asked Harry, knowing Hermione's response.  
"Yes," she replied, calming down, "you were brilliant!"  
Again, Harry's eyes turned slowly to her.  
"Thank you Hermione,'' he started, "imagine if it was you who was fighting the Forbet."  
"Thank goodness it wasn't," commented Hermione, "but…are you ok?"  
Harry nodded, "I'm fine."  
He looked at his watch.  
"We've got to go, we've got Care of Magical Creatures next," said Harry in a hurry.  
Instantly, the two ran to the school gates, heading to the castle grounds. On their way to Care of Magical Creatures, they saw Peeves floating silently above a house-elf statue. He seemed so quite, which was highly unusual. Harry and Hermione were a bit curious. So, they decided to ask him about the reason of this quietness.  
"Hello Peeves," started Harry, "is something wrong?"  
Peeves gave him a sorrowful look, and didn't talk.  
"Why are you quiet?" asked Hermione, looking even more curious.  
Peeves came down to face the two.  
"'ts me uncle Gadzy, he decide to show up an' come 'ere," spoke Peeves, very disappointed.  
Harry and Hermione gave each other a vague look.  
"And…that's supposed to be…bad?" asked Harry.   
"'ts worse than horrible. Uncle Gadzy used to 'it me when I was a kid, for jokin' at dinner. I was a human, you know, just like you two lads. But, me uncle Gadzy thought it was funny to turn me into a poltergeist. 'e sent me to Hogwarts, when I never even got a letter form the headmaster. I was never accepted. So, I became what I am today. An' now, he's comin' back to pay his nephew a little visit. God, I hope he smashes his brain before arriving'"  
Harry was quiet for a couple of seconds, thinking thoughtfully about Peeves's situation.  
"Well," started Hermione, " we can't do anything about that, can we? I mean…this is how you were punished. Honestly, I never knew that you were a human in the past, but…now…I understand why you behave that way. You've been a joker since your youth, and continued on. Unfortunately, your uncle Gadzy didn't like that habit. Therefore, he wanted you to pay the penalty. But…this was very harsh of him."  
"Correct, miss," said Peeves, looking so sad.

Harry nodded sympathetically. Although Peeves was the master of disaster at Hogwarts, and the biggest source of bother to everyone, he was a human in the past. He had feelings that still existed throughout his childish-joking behavior. Still, it was loads of fun having Peeves around. Harry couldn't help imagine the school without him He was even better than Fred and George.

Several seconds of silence…and then, Peeves flew away. Harry and Hermione had to run like rockets to reach the Care of Magical Creatures class in time. Only twenty seconds were left till Hagrid began his grunting.


	24. Together on Ice

24 (Together on Ice)

Later that day, at evening, Harry and Hermione, weak from the harsh studying, and lessons, decided to pay Ron a little visit in the Hospital Wing.

"Hello Ron," said the two, gazing curiously at the strange looking, weak, tired, and sleepy Ron.  
"You shouldn't have come, I'm getting worse," replied Ron, trying to sit up. His pillow was covered with his sweat; it was like someone intentionally emptied a bucket of water on it.  
"What's wrong?" asked Hermione, sitting on the bed beside Ron's.  
"You'd better ask Madam Pomfrey, it's her area of expertise," answered Ron, rubbing his sweaty forehead.  
Harry stared at him for a second.  
"I bet it's your fever that's getting worse," started Harry, "you're sweating a lot, you know."  
"Yes," began Ron, breathing deeply, "I reckon the next thing that's going to happen is that I get a cold or flu."  
Hermione giggled on the bed.  
Ron looked at her, his eyes half open.  
"Laughing huh?" and he smiled sarcastically. "You wouldn't like it if you were sick, would you?"  
Hermione shook her head.  
"No, of course not," she replied, still laughing.  
"Bossy know-it-all," mumbled Ron, softly, so that Hermione wouldn't hear him. However, unfortunately, he didn't succeed.  
"What was that you said?" asked Hermione, raising her eyebrows.  
Ron took a breath in, and turned to her.  
"Isn't there something," he began weakly, wincing as his body temperature rose frequently, "that you don't hear or see?"  
Harry stared at his feet, and giggled gently.   
"But of course there are. What am I? Supernatural, Ron?" replied Hermione.

Ron kept quiet, and decided to change the subject of conversation. Since he was the only one Gryffindor sixth year that missed today's lessons, he chose to ask his best friends about how the day was.

So, as the time passed by, Ron learned all about Forbets, the deceiving wisps of smoke that would transform into mummies right behind one's neck. He also laughed when he heard Harry talking about Malfoy's reaction to his tricky Forbet. Imagining Malfoy having a hard time was such a perfect way to ease the pain of sickness and illness. Besides, it was what Ron always preferred, having Malfoy insult his family and friends in the last several years.  
"Pity you missed the lesson," commented Hermione, as Ron slowly reached for a glass of water on the table next to him.  
"No thanks," said Ron, taking a sip, "a lesson with mummies swarming all around the place, disappearing, and then reappearing suddenly without any warning…I don't think so. And I thought giant spiders were my biggest fear."  
Harry couldn't help laughing at the scared-of-everything Ron. When will he ever grow up, and get the nerve to face danger, without a bit of fear surrounding his soul-thought Harry. It just reminded him of the old days, as he might refer to them. They had so much adventure full of fun and action, in the past years. Memories started flowing back to his mind…the day when the three of them landed on the Devil Snare beneath the trap door…the day the three of them drank the Polyjuice Potion…the moments when Harry fought the deadly basilisk…the time when he almost got hit by the Knight Bus…the time when he met Crookshanks for the first time…the day when he discovered who Sirius was….the day when he accompanied Hermione and Ron to the Quidditch World Cup…the day when he met Voldemort again in the graveyard…the day when the DA members went with him to the Department of Mysteries…and then, terrible memories, more like nightmares, interfered. He had a flashback of seeing Voldemort rise terribly again. A sort of feeling made his stomach move, as if he was going to vomit. Then, another memory passed by, but this time, it seemed longer, to kind of torture him. He heard his mother's shrieks and cries… and after that, she pleaded Voldemort for mercy, and to kill her rather than Harry. His mind was getting crammed with those memories, until he had his head held in his hands, yelping, and gasping, due to the emotional pain that flowed by. It was like his whole system was shut down, and he started floating on soft invisible air, in the darkness, and alone. He couldn't handle it anymore…

"Harry?"  
He found himself on the floor, his body shaking like mad.  
"Are you allright?" asked Ron, sticking his right leg down, trying without use to get out of bed.  
Harry held his hands up to his head, and looked to the ground, trying to get into focus again. His scar has twitched, and that made him even angrier, because he started shivering, and holding the bed sheet in a very firm grip.  
"Harry, it's ok…relax," spoke Hermione, trying her best to calm him down.

At last, Harry was normal again, but still, his eyes were wild, as if he was seeing a live nightmare take place in front of him.  
"Are you ok?" asked Hermione, sounding worried.  
When Harry looked at himself, he found himself and Hermione both sitting on the dry cold floor.  
"Yes…I…I…at least, I think I'm ok," replied Harry uncertainly.  
"What happened?" asked Ron, over their heads.  
The two got up, and sat on the bed, in front of Ron's feet.  
Harry started explaining, "When you spoke about giant spiders, I started recalling the times we've spent together. I mean, the times where we got together in adventures. In first, second, third, fourth, and fifth year. For a minute or so, it was like peace all around me, but then…then…sad and painful memories of the past came by….causing mind devastation…and… I heard mum yelling, and…she was begging Voldemort not to kill me, but to take her instead…and later on….I couldn't help it…I..I think I lost control…my scar twitched, it felt so hot…like it was boiling…and then I lost track of my condition…and woke up to find myself lying on the ground."  
Hermione and Ron gave each other a curious, worried, and an uncertain look.  
"Your scar twitched?" asked Ron, to be sure.  
" Yes…like a…like a sunburn," answered Harry, rubbing his glasses.  
Hermione turned to him. Slowly, she took a deep cool breath.  
"Perhaps you should talk to Firenze," advised Ron, uncertainly.  
Harry shook his head.   
"Maybe this is another warning," commented Hermione.  
"I don't think so," said Harry, disagreeing with her point, "probably, he's happy or angry right now. That's why it twitched."  
"You mean…Voldemort?" asked Ron, slightly wincing at the name.  
"Yes,"  
"So, what do you think has happened that made him happy or angry?" queried Hermione.  
Harry shook his head.  
"I don't know," began Harry, "but there is something I know, in fact, I've known it since the end of summer."  
"What?" asked Ron, tying a button on his shirt.  
"Professor Lupin came to visit me at the Dursleys," explained Harry earnestly, "and he said that Voldemort has sent his Death Eaters all over the world to search for me. Of course, they knew that I studied magic at Hogwarts, but they never knew where I lived in the holiday."  
Hermione and Ron understood him.  
"So," continued Harry, "it's only a matter of time before they set foot here, at Hogwarts, to attack."  
"But," started Ron, "why would it take them so long? I mean, they perfectly know where Hogwarts is, why haven't they showed up till now?"  
Harry never thought about that; it was good of Ron to mention it though.  
"I think," began Hermione seriously, "that you're forgetting some things."  
"What?" asked Harry and Ron together.  
"All those attacks that happened here a couple of months ago," claimed Hermione, "the Crows from Dark Valley…the giant that showed up at the Quidditch match….those weren't coincidences."  
"What do you mean?" asked Ron slowly; having no clue about what Hermione was talking about.  
"What I'm trying to say is," Hermione went on slower, shooting Harry and Ron don't-you-get-it looks, "Voldemort never does something without a plan. I mean, in fourth year, he didn't attack Harry right away in the summer holiday; however, he waited till the end of the year, when he made sure Harry would make it through the third task, the maze I mean, and touch the cup to be transferred to him by a portkey."

Harry and Ron both remembered, at those very words, how the circumstances and conditions were in fourth year. Especially Harry; he remembered how it felt to be facing Voldemort, having rose again, at the graveyard, in which his own father was buried. The cold intense feeling of those moments came back again to Harry, making him wince a bit, and grimace.

"Do you two get it now?" asked Hermione, yawning.  
Harry and Ron nodded.  
"By the way," said Ron quietly, "could you two do me a favour, and get me out of here? It's really boring…lying in the bed, minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day…"  
Harry and Hermione, unintentionally though, grinned, and agreed to help Ron.  
So, a few minutes later, the two left Ron, heading to Madam Pomfrey, who was near the entrance of the Hospital Wing, mending a girl's broken leg, probably from some Quidditch practice, who looked very familiar to the pair of them.  
"Cho?" started Harry, glancing at the seventh year Ravenclaw.  
She looked up at him, over Madam Pomfrey's head.  
"Hello Harry," then she averted her eyes, as though she just realized Hermione came with him, "hello Hermione."  
"Hello," replied Hermione, "what's wrong with your leg?"  
Cho grinned very slowly.  
"Well," she began calmly, "we had this Quidditch practice that turned out to be the worst in my entire life. It was in night, and there was a lot of rain. First of all, that annoyed and distracted our vision. Second, it lost me my concentration on the snitch. Besides, I couldn't have seen it properly, with all the thick big raindrops surrounding it. So, as the time passed by, I spent it doing nothing but sticking in my place, all wet and cold. And all of a sudden, I saw something from a distance… something brown, and big…a Bludger! I tried to move away as fast as I could've, but it was too late. The Bludger had already hit my left leg, almost went through it, and I was falling to the ground, terribly."  
Hermione let out a sigh.  
"Whoa!" said Harry in amazement. "Interesting story! Um…well, get well soon!"  
Cho smiled at him.  
Now, it was time to talk to Madam Pomfrey, who had been busy mending Cho's leg, with creams, and liquids that Harry never knew their use.  
"Um…Madam Pomfrey?" began Harry.  
"Yes dear?" replied Madam Pomfrey, wiping the stains of an orange liquid off her rough, wrinkled, and dry hand.  
"We were beginning to think that it was time for Ron to leave the Hospital Wing, and…" but he wasn't able to finish his sentence.  
"Oh no my dear," began Madam Pomfrey, " don't you think about your red haired friend leaving. He ought to stay here for three more days."  
Hermione's smile faded away, and she looked crossed.  
"Madam Pomfrey, please," Harry went on, desperately, " he's told us how boring it is, lying there motionless, day after day….he's missed the classes…"  
Hermione looked at him, raising her eyebrows.  
"Well, perhaps not the classes," said Harry, taking a breath, "but, you know…he's missed hanging out with us…he missed lunch on the house table in the Great Hall…he missed so many things that he couldn't handle being locked up in this…this cage!"

Madam Pomfrey shot them some angry, but meaningful looks.  
"Honestly, you two and your little friend have been in here dozens of times, and never minded staying! What has gone with you? Does this place look like Azkaban to you?"  
Harry and Hermione flinched at those words. The subject of Azkaban brought the bloody dementors to their minds.  
"No, of course not," replied Harry, untying his tie, "we got used to this place. Plus, you were always there to help us, and treat us in the right way. So please, I'm begging you, Madam Pomfrey, let my innocent friend out, let him smell the sun's rays again…let him soar with happiness…let him celebrate his recovery."  
"I see," said Madam Pomfrey, "well, unluckily, he hasn't recovered yet!"  
"What?" shouted Harry in disbelief.  
"Yes, and he needs hours of rest in his bed, treatment, healthy food, and extra care. All of this happens because of that tiring fever, that is common around human beings!" Madam Pomfrey was raging now, and losing her temper.  
"So, mind you two leave now please? I'm a bit busy, you know!"  
"Madam Pomfrey, you don't understand….getting back will cure his sickness, and he'll be allright again," said Harry, wishing that he could have power to fire the stubborn Madam Pomfrey from her work.  
She put her hand up to her forehead.  
"Fine," she said quickly, "but if anything goes wrong with your friend, don't you come pleading me to treat him right! And don't you say that I didn't warn you!"  
Momentarily, she disappeared from their sight, rampaging like a wild rhinoceros would.  
Harry sighed, and breathed deeply, so did Hermione.  
"Bye then," said Harry and Hermione leaving Cho alone to recline.  
"See you later," replied Cho, looking depressed. The sight of Hermione accompanying Harry, was the thing she loathed and hated most, apart from Cedric's death.

"Guess what?" the two were back to Ron, who was reading a book, given by Hermione.  
"What?" he asked, looking rather excited.  
"She agreed, Madam Pomfrey," began Harry, "to let you out!"  
"But that came after hard work, you know," added Hermione, and then explained what went on with Madam Pomfrey, rejecting the idea of letting him out, and how finally she gave up, leaving responsibility to Harry and Hermione.  
"Weird…I've never seen her this angry," commented Ron, after listening to her story, "she' probably not getting enough rest and settlement … having to take care of all those students, one after the other…it must be really wearisome work, being a nurse."  
A few minutes later, Ron happily crept out of his bed, and joined Harry and Hermione to dinner in the Great Hall. His appetite was greater than ever before; it was like he's never seen this much bliss in his whole life! Truly, recovery from illness was one festive thing to celebrate and enjoy. Ron, without anything in his way to stop him, ate three full plates containing roast beef, and drank five goblets of sweet pumpkin juice. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Ginny were all happy and glad that he was good once again, but still mystified by his behavior at eating. However, it was a great night for Ron. Being back with his friends has brought life back to him, as if he were dead for a few days.

Later that night, Ron, who was entirely full of food and drinks, headed his fellow Gryffindors off to the common room. What he needed after a big meal, was a peaceful, calm, and a sweet sleep.  
Most of the Gryffindors were tired too, so they decided it was the best for them to get back to their dormitories, and get some sleep.

This has left Harry and Hermione alone. Harry wasn't really tired, but filled with energy. Probably, seeing Ron back in perfect health made him a bit hyper, and awake. Hermione, too, wasn't that much sleepy either. So, the two went for a walk outside the castle, where snow fell above their heads, and where the lake was frozen into solid ice. They knew it would be better not to wander in the dark, but Harry was a teacher now, and had every right to stay after hours.

"Nature is beautiful, isn't it?" asked Hermione, glancing at the cool dry lake, "I mean, it is brilliant to see how it goes through a cycle, on and on again. However, greed and evil are among it. That's why nature sometimes is sad."  
Harry stared at her, and then had an idea.  
"Do you go to summer school back in muggle land?" asked Harry, giggling.  
Hermione looked at him, confused.  
"No, why?"   
"You sound like those teachers back in my school…I mean before I came to Hogwarts, I used to go to a muggle school, and Dudley to Smeltings School. What I remember from English lessons, were those courses we took about literature. So, I thought you might've went to a muggle school before stepping into the fantastic magical world."  
Hermione laughed at Harry.  
"Well, to be honest, I did for a few years. They perfectly taught us how to describe nature," explained Hermione earnestly.  
"I agree," said Harry, " nature is brilliant."

Hermione rubbed her shoulders strongly, desperate for some warmth. Apparently, she had forgotten to wear an extra jacket. Harry just noticed her; she was almost freezing. He perfectly discerned the raindrops that froze on her nose.  
"Here," said Harry kindly, handing her his own furry coat.  
"Oh no Harry, you don't have to…"  
"It's ok Hermione," said Harry, his leg stuck in the snow, "it'll only make it safer for you, otherwise you might end up having a cold, or worse, a fever like Ron."  
"Thank you," said Hermione.   
Harry was facing a problem now, a tough one. His leg was, which was covered with two trousers, and an extra black jacket, was truly stuck in the thick cold snow. His leg began to freeze, and lose the sense of warmth.  
Hermione had just realized it.  
"Let me help," she said quickly. Slowly, gently, and carefully, she grabbed Harry's leg from his boot, and started to pull it out with all her strength. For a few moments, nothing happened… and then, suddenly, Harry's leg came right out of the snow; Hermione fell on the ground, and Harry, accidentally, fell over her. However, luckily, he put his hands quickly on the snow, to avoid crashing.  
Harry stared deep into Hermione's eyes, and she looked back at him. Then a smile appeared.  
"Thank you for your help," commented Harry, and then stretched out his hand to pull Hermione up.  
She was laughing at their state, all messed up with snow and rain.  
"That was some fun we had, huh?" asked Hermione, still giggling.  
Harry nodded.

They kept throwing snowballs at each other for ten minutes, and Hermione tried to run as fast as she could, to catch Harry, who was escaping. Cleverly, she caught him, and won. Then, they decided to build up a snowman. With waves from their wands, the snow on the ground began rising and taking the form of a fat snowman. Hermione poked her two index fingers into its head, forming the eyes. Shortly after that, Harry used his wand to form its mouth, which was wide open. He transfigured it, so that it would continue moving upwards and downwards. With a wave from Hermione's wand, a carrot appeared, and she plugged it in the middle, having a nose.  
And so, there stood the perfect snowman they made together.

Harry was catching his breath now, and Hermione was laughing at the snowman.

"Listen, Harry," began Hermione, straightening her hat on her head, " do you want to go ice-skating on the lake?"  
Harry thought about what she heard.  
"Ice-skating?" asked Harry. "I know we do it in muggle land, but I was never good at it. The Dursleys used to take Dudley dozens of times in a month when we were ten or so, but I was always the victim. He always pushed me on the ice-skating rink, and I got hurt."  
"Good, then at least you know a bit of it," said Hermione, taking her wand out of her coat, or rather Harry's coat.  
"What are you doing, Hermione?" asked Harry.  
"Summoning skates," claimed Hermione, chuckling at the state of the confused Harry.  
"Accio skates!" muttered Hermione, and at once, a pair of navy-blue skates came soaring through the air, reaching Hermione's grip. She held them quickly, and took her boots off. Quickly though, she put on her skates, and turned to Harry. With deft, she waved her wand, and another pair of skates appeared out of thin air. They were black, and shiny.  
"Here you go," said Hermione, handing him the skates. Harry wondered whether he should do this or not. He truly wasn't good at skating, and he feared that something was going to be wrong.   
"Are you sure of this?" asked Harry.  
"You'll be fine," replied Hermione, grinning at him, "don't you trust me?"  
"Of course I do,"  
"Then don't be afraid, I'll teach you," proclaimed Hermione.

The two walked through the snowy grounds, difficultly, and then at last, reached the lake. It was shiny, and as solid as glass. Harry could see his reflection on it.  
"Ready?" asked Hermione, smiling at Harry fervently.  
"I…guess so," replied Harry slowly, tying the loose laces on his skates.  
"Here, hold my hands," Hermione stretched out both of her hands, which were hidden underneath thick warm gloves.  
Gently, Harry's hands found their way to Hermione's.  
"Ok, hold on firmly. I'll skate backwards, and thus, you shall proceed," explained Hermione, "and you have to remember, just glide softly to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right again, and so on. Get it?"  
Harry nodded.

Now came the fun. Hermione already started moving her legs on the solid glittery ice, moving backwards. Harry was a bit nervous, but at least managed to move his shaking cold legs to the front. He did just as Hermione told him to; one glide to the right, and another to the left. His hair flew backwards rapidly, as his speed increased by skating. Hermione was very confident, because she knew perfectly how to skate. Harry, on the other hand, was trying as hard as he could, to not panic, but stay calm.  
"You're doing it Harry!" shouted Hermione.  
"Thank you," replied Harry, his ears almost freezing due to the cold air swirling in them.   
Minute after the other, Harry was getting better.  
Suddenly, he lost his balance, and lifted one leg above the ground. The other was moving forward quickly. His hands slipped from Hermione's grip, and he almost fell. However, Hermione, as fast as sound, held him and pulled him up.  
"Thanks," said Harry, rubbing the snow off his legs.  
"Don't mention it," said Hermione, her smile widening, "it was quite good to come up with that mistake. I hope you learned from it. Never skate with your back standing straight…you have to bend it a little."  
Harry nodded, understanding the rules.  
So, again, Hermione held his hands, and started moving to the back. Harry was getting tired, but still, he felt great learning a new sport. His legs were half numb, for he almost didn't feel them. Then, without any warning, Hermione turned around in an arc, and let go of Harry.   
"Hermione, what was that for?" shouted Harry, his head turning backwards.  
"Never mind, you have to practise alone, focus on what's in front of you, Harry," yelled Hermione back.   
Harry had faith in her, so did he have trust. He hoped that he would not disappoint her. So, he freed his mind from every single thought, and concentrated on moving faster. Faster and faster, he was dashing through the falling snow. He could even clearly see the tracks of his skates from behind. The sweat drops on his face froze, and his eyes were lost in the snow. But finally, he made it till the other far end of the lake.  
From afar, Hermione screamed, "Well done Harry!"  
In reaction, he raised his hand, and waved at her, announcing his success.

A few minutes later, Hermione reached Harry, but of course, a lot quicker than he skated.  
"You were brilliant," said Hermione, congratulating him on his beginner-lesson.  
"You're great too," said Harry, kneeling down to catch his breath.  
Hermione looked at her wristwatch, which was wet, and turned back at Harry.  
"We'd better get back to the dormitory, before we get stuck in a blizzard,"  
Harry nodded his head in agreement, and got up on his feet. All of the sudden, he found Hermione's arm around his shoulders. He's never felt this comfortable before. Harry glanced at her, smiling. Hermione smiled back, and they took their skates off.  
"_Evanesco_!" said Hermione loudly, and at once, the skates vanished from their vision. The two had their boots back on, after summoning them from the other side. Harry slowly placed his arm around her shoulders. His feelings have really changed for the past few days. He was confused about these new feelings. He knew that one day he would find the lost love, but…could it be Hermione, his best friend? How wonderful it would've been, if they truly fell for each other.

Half the way was left till they reached the other end, which was near the castle gates. Harry felt something strange. Something was wrong. He thought he heard a crack under his own feet.  
"Did you hear that?" asked Harry, listening carefully for any sign of movement.  
"Hear what?" queried Hermione, looking around her.  
"Never mind," said Harry. They only walked a few steps further, when Hermione heard the unmistaken sound of the cracking of ice.  
"Oh dear," said Hermione, and instantly, her legs began sinking into the freezing water.  
"Hold on Hermione!" shouted Harry, holding her from her hands. He quickly moved his legs back, but it was a bit slippery.  
"Help!" shouted Hermione painfully, desperate to get out of the cold water. From underneath, she couldn't move her legs. They were completely numb. Then, Harry glimpsed shiny tears dangling from Hermione's eyelashes.  
"Don't give up, Hermione!"  
At last, there was some improvement. He managed to pull half of her out of the water. He was sure that her legs were losing circulation. Hermione's face got white, and she breathed terribly fast.  
Then, Harry saw something dark in the water. It was getting closer to the surface. And CRACK! There was the Giant Squid's tentacle breaking the ice, to help Harry.  
Finally, he succeeded in pulling her out. She was shivering, and shaking horribly. Her breaths were above the normal rate. Her eyes seemed out of focus.  
Harry saw the Giant Squid's tentacle wave in the air goodbye, and then sank back into the water.  
"Hermione, are you ok?" shouted Harry. He put his hand under her head, and lifted it up. Slowly, she regained conscious, and her eyes turned to Harry.  
"Are you allright?" asked Harry again, to confirm he safety.  
"You…you…saved my life!" said Hermione weakly, with a warm smile on her cold face.  
"That's what friends are for, right? Besides, the Giant Squid helped too," continued Harry.  
Hermione nodded, and looked deeply into his bright green eyes.  
"I owe you my life!" added Hermione, trying to get up.  
"Friends don't owe each other anything, Hermione. What's important is that you're safe," explained Harry.  
At those moments, with Harry sitting on one knee, and Hermione lying on the floor, the two were lost in emotions. Harry's most definite desire now was to confess his love to her, but he was afraid of her reaction. He decided to tell her later on. And Hermione…she glanced at the smiling, warm, kind, and friendly face. Harry has been her best and most loyal friend for the past five years, and this was the sixth year running. She wondered…was it time for her to be settled with a true lover? And most importantly, could it be…Harry…that she was destined to be with? Then, slowly, Hermione sat up, and got closer to Harry. Harry was focusing on her eyes, getting so close. Their noses almost touched when…Hermione gently kissed his cheek, and then smiled.  
Harry closed his eyes, and thought of that moment that just passed by, and hoped it would last forever. Then, the white snow lighted the blackness of the inside, as Harry opened his eyes.  
"You're the best friend someone could ever have!" spoke Hermione gladly, and hugged him tightly. He smiled, and hugged her back. These were extraordinary moments of life, which to Harry, might be supernatural and very special.

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione, who were both relieved and tired at the same time, finally reached the Hogwarts Castle front gate. The warmth of the inside cheered them up. Nobody was in the Great Hall but Peeves, still sad about the soon arrival of his uncle, Gadzy. So, they decided to return back to their dormitories.

Slowly, the two waved goodnight to each other, as they opened their dormitories' doors. It happened so slowly, that Harry really enjoyed. They closed the door at the same exact time, abandoning the common room, and went to sleep.  
Harry crept into his bed, and covered himself with the blanket, to keep him warm. He kept thinking about the times he spent with Hermione in the past. Slowly, memory after memory came floating by in his mind. The day when their eyes first met on the Hogwarts Express…the day when they went through the trapdoor….the day when Hermione hugged him just before he went to save the Philosopher's Stone…the day when she welcomed him back at Diagon Alley before second year began…the day when they drank the Polyjuice Potion in the girls' haunted bathroom…the day when she held his waist so tight, when they were flying on Buckbeak….the day when she helped him with summoning charms…the day she first kissed him on the cheek, before leaving Kings Cross Station in the end of fourth year… the day when she bravely joined him to fight the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries…everything kept coming back to him now. Harry couldn't believe how much events have happened in the past years. Slowly, he took off his glasses, and rested soundly in his bed, becoming silent, until the dawn of another day…


	25. Uncle Gadzy Arrives

25 (Uncle Gadzy Arrives)

Finally, the warm light rays of January vaporized the morning dew on the windows, and soon reached the five boys' beds in their dormitory. However, none of them awoke at that point, not even Harry.

Then, out of a sudden, bursts, shrieks, cries, and shouts were filling their ears, vibrating them like a muggle drill. Harry jumped out of his bed, his fingers in his ears, tightly pushing in. He grabbed his glasses, put them on, and got out of bed. Meanwhile, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville woke up, annoyed too.

"What's going---on?" asked a sleepy Neville, yawning.  
"What's happening?" added Seamus, rubbing his ears.  
Harry shook his head, "I don't know."  
"Has Hagrid let in a Cockatoodle or what?" queried Ron, grinning.  
Harry shout him funny looks, and then headed to the dormitory's door.

Quickly, the five boys opened the door, crept out, and raced downstairs, all wearing pyjamas.  
"Hang on," interrupted Ron, "we can't just simply go out there in this state. Can't we put some clothes on?"  
The four gave him significant looks, and got their wands out.  
"Accio school-clothes!" shouted the five. Immediately, five black cloaks, five grey jumpers, five grey trousers, five white T-Shirts, five ties, and five black shoes zoomed down the stairs, reaching their owner's hands.

Five minutes later, the five were all dressed up.  
"I wonder what it is," claimed Ron, mystified.  
"We'll find out soon," added Harry hastily.

At once, they dashed through the door, ran out to the corridors to explore the source of those shrieks and shouts.  
Minute after minute passed by, with nothing interesting happening. Until at last, Harry remembered one thing. Last night, when he and Hermione hang out together, they met Peeves on the way. He looked sad, and felt sorrow and grief. Surprisingly, the reason turned out to be the arrival of his Uncle Gadzy, the uncle who wanted to ground Peeves forever, by turning him to a Poltergeist, after being a joking human child.

"This is going to be funny," said Harry, smiling at the four.  
With their ears wide open, and their eyes looking for any sign of movement, the four turned back to Harry, as if they just realized what he had just said.  
"What?" asked Dean curiously.  
"What fun do you mean by this, Harry?" asked Neville, focusing on Harry's answer.  
"Well, last night, Hermione and I went for a walk outside the castle," began Harry, who was soon interrupted by Ron.  
"What?" he asked impatiently. "You two get together, while I'm sleeping calmly in my bed?"  
Harry nodded. Ron looked back at him, confused.  
"Anyway, we met good old Peeves on the way, and he was in grief," explained Harry earnestly.  
"Why?" asked Seamus, intrigued.  
"I'm getting there Seamus, I'm getting there…well, he told us his story, the real one. You see, he used to be a human in youth," added Harry.  
"He---what?" cried Neville in surprise.  
"Lower your voice, will you?" said Harry; worried about if Neville woke up anyone yet.  
"Sorry," apologized Neville, bashfully.  
"So," Harry went on, laughing quietly as he remembered Peeves's state, "he used to ---still has---an uncle called Gadzy. One ritual of their family was to gather around the dinner table, and start eating. Afterwards, they would talk. On the other hand, Peeves didn't prefer talking; however, he loved joking."  
The four sighed at those very words.  
"So that's why he's the biggest clown anyone could wish for," added Dean, smiling.  
"Unfortunately, his uncle, Gadzy, was completely bothered by his silly jokes. So, he thought of punishing him for a lifetime. Guess what he did? He turned him into a poltergeist!"  
"Oh," said Neville calmly.  
"But that was too harsh of him," proclaimed Ron, feeling sorry for Peeves for the first time in his entire life.  
"And now, he's got a letter from his uncle. He said, cruelly, that he'd be coming to Hogwarts in a day, to observe Peeves's improvement of behaviour. Well, he hasn't improved much, has he?"  
"No," replied the four of them, sadly.

A minute later, the source of noise came into clear earshot. Peeves, out of the kitchen, flew directly towards the Great Hall. Following him was an old man, with a grayish beard to the length of his waist. He also wore a twisted brown hat that had some sowed holes in it. Out of the corner of his mouth, was a long gold cigar.  
His clothes were old, and too small to his size. His bare shins showed, and they were covered with bruises of the old days. Then, Harry thought he'd seen some old worn stick sticking out of one pocket, his wand… this, unmistakably, was Uncle Gadzy.

"Come back here you dirty dung pig! Come here you naughty rascal!" screamed the old squeaking voice of Uncle Gadzy.  
"Whoa!" sighed Ron, from behind eight shoulders of the four boys in front of him. "He must be some kind of nutter!"  
"You're right," laughed Harry, exhilarated by the sight of Uncle Gadzy chasing after the arrogant Peeves.  
"Not in a million years, Uncle Gadzy!" shouted back Peeves, from a high altitude.  
Catching his breath, Uncle Gadzy stared up at his nephew with anger.  
"Peeves, you dirty scum," yelled Uncle Gadzy loudly, almost shaking the house-tables, "I'll have Dumbledore have your ungrateful little head!"

Harry caught a look of fright on Peeves's face, but it vanished momentarily.  
"Go 'ead, do it if ya can," screamed Peeves, letting out a burst of laughs.  
Uncle Gadzy gritted his teeth, and tightened his grips.  
"If you don't come down this instant…"  
"You're nothin' but a big fat liar, that's who you is!" shouted Harry, taking something out of his tiny jacket.  
"Peeves, you insignificant little joking brat!" yelled Uncle Gadzy furiously, once more. "Come here or I'll…"  
SPLASH! Three balloons loaded with sugar water fell on Uncle Gadzy's brown hat. Water was falling off the edges of the hat, soaking it with sugar and water. The sugar was transfigured to turn into boiling hot pepper. Uncle Gadzy was doomed now. Two sugar particles increased in size, turning into long reddish vegetables, hot peppers. They crept into his wrinkled eyelids, feeling like sunburn.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! STOP IT NOW! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS PEEVES, CURSE YOU!"  
"That's for turnin' me into a poltergeist!" Peeves grasped another ball, but this time, it was full of wheat, and threw it at his uncle's face.

The five boys were absolutely amazed by Peeves's awesome revenge, which made them laugh their heads off.  
"This is for comin' back 'ere, after all da years you left me alone!" And another, in fact even thicker, ball found its way to his face. 

Now, Peeves was flying all over the place, celebrating his revenge. He let out laughs, and chuckles. He carried his uncle from his belt, lifted him high in the air. Uncle Gadzy was struggling to hold on to him, even though he had no flesh. Then, they reached the ceiling, and Peeves has almost dropped him, but...  
"Accio Uncle Gadzy!" yelled Harry. He couldn't just let Peeves kill him that easily, although it was his most desperate desire and ambition.  
Uncle Gadzy floated by in the air, and reached Harry and his friends, so weak. Meanwhile, Peeves gritted his teeth angrily, and left the Great Hall.  
"Scourgify!" shouted Ron, cleaning the mess on his old clothes.  
"Thanks for that," spoke Uncle Gadzy, as Harry and Ron had to lip-read his words.  
"You're welcome," answered Harry proudly.  
Uncle Gadzy stood up straight, his knees making cracking noises, and then shot Harry a strange look, sort of curious. Harry thought he'd seen his scar.  
"You're…you're…no, I don't believe it!" muttered Uncle Gadzy, as though he saw a miracle.  
"Yeah, he's Harry Potter," spoke Neville, and pointed to Harry.

Horrifyingly, the old man grasped Harry's hand, and shook it so vigorously that he almost broke the bones inside.  
"It's my pleasure meeting you," added Uncle Gadzy, showing his uneven yellow teeth, covered with tobacco, as he smiled. An awful smell of someone who hasn't brushed his teeth for sixth months was released.  
"Hello, nice to meet you too," said Harry, finally after letting his hand go, and covering his nose to avoid the foul smell.  
"I see you've met my annoying joker nephew," mumbled Uncle Gadzy, as he inserted the cigar in his mouth again, smoking.  
The five boys nodded.  
"Has he been well behaved for all these years?"  
"Well, to tell the truth sir," began Ron, "we've only been here for six years…"  
"That's when I turned the pathetic dingbat into a poltergeist, at the age of six! And With this wand too!" he took out his old worn wand.   
"Precisely," added Harry, "but we might say…no."  
Uncle Gadzy's eyes rolled to the left, to gaze at Harry, unbelievably.   
"No? Never in your life?"  
"Not ever," claimed Dean, "we always call him master of disaster!"  
"Master of d...d...disaster?" asked Uncle Gadzy, trembling, and his cigar shaking in his mouth.  
"Yes," Seamus continued, "he's been the greatest source of nuisance one could ever get!"  
Harry got a grimace, and swallowed a lump. He was terrified of the way Uncle Gadzy would react.  
"Master of Disaster? Greatest source of nuisance? …he…he never changed?"  
Slowly, and automatically, Harry shook his head.

Uncle Gadzy got a wild look on his worn face, as if he was living another old dinner time, in which Peeves was present.  
"God! And I thought we straightened up some matters!" yowled Uncle Gadzy, and then marching off.  
"Wait, sir," shouted Harry from behind, "where are you going?"  
"I'll make Dumbledore see…twenty six years, that is…twenty six yeas my nephew took refuge in this huge castle, and never thought of improving his joking attitude!"  
"Hang on, please," yelled Ron, while Seamus, Dean, and Neville followed him.  
"I thought what he needed was a little bit of discipline, and thought that Dumbledore offered it. Ha! Clearly, he hasn't changed much!"  
Although he was as old as Dumbledore, he staggered quickly, climbing up the stairs, heading to Professor Dumbledore's office.  
Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were right behind him, catching their breaths difficulty.

There stood the golden gargoyle, that was the entrance to the Headmaster's office.  
"Open up you big old hag!" screamed Uncle Gadzy, raging.  
"It won't open up like that; there's a password," added Harry. However, Uncle Gadzy, too busy figuring out a way to get indoor, ignored Harry's advice.  
Eventually, Uncle Gadzy ended up kicking the gargoyle with his torn boot.  
"Aaaah, damn!" shouted Uncle Gadzy in pain; it was extremely painful to twist a toe.

Harry and his friends gladly watched Uncle Gadzy hop around in a circle on one foot, while the other was in his hands.  
Moments later, the racket was sensed by Professor Dumbledore. He came down into their view.  
"Is something wrong?" asked Professor Dumbledore calmly, straightening up his half-moon spectacles.  
The five boys, speechless, pointed to Uncle Gadzy.  
Professor Dumbledore let out a quiet laugh,  
"Gadzy, my old friend. Twenty six years it has been…"  
Slowly, Professor Dumbledore took out his wand, and healed Uncle Gadzy's hurt leg.  
He placed his arm around his shoulder and went into his office, accompanied by the boys.

Kindly, Professor Dumbledore presented Uncle Gadzy with some warm tea.  
"So, Gadzy my old friend, tell me…what brings you back to old Hogwarts?" asked Professor Dumbledore, beaming at him, and giving the five boys a wink.  
"I'll tell you what brings me back here," said Uncle Gadzy, taking a sip of his warm tea, "it's about Peeves!"  
"Calm down, old friend, there is no need to panic," said Dumbledore.  
"Well, in this case, there is," Uncle Gadzy went on, "for heaven's sake Dumbledore! I've left him with you since he was a lousy six year old, and now he's a thirty two year old menace, and a master-of-disaster as your students informed me."  
Professor Dumbledore turned his eyes to the five boys, seated on a long bench beside a bookshelf, and smiled.  
"Is that what they told you?" asked Professor Dumbledore, pretending to be serious.  
"You bet it is!" gasped Uncle Gadzy. "Really, his sense of humor hasn't suppressed for all these years. Pity my own brother, his father, liked him. He didn't have a clue how annoying Peeves was…he used to hang out with his freaky friends that had an idea of becoming clowns in the future! I bet you one hundred sickles that's where he got his awful jokes from!" He stuck his hand in his pocket, reaching for the money.  
"Now now, Gadzy... there is no need for gambling," spoke Professor Dumbledore, delightfully,  
"Eh?"  
"What I'm trying to say," continued Professor Dumbledore, "is that although people have shown their negative personalities in public, they, too, have shown those that are positive."  
"And what does that mean?" asked Uncle Gadzy impatiently, as Harry and Ron giggled quietly, behind their hands.  
"It means that Peeves is one of those people," explained Dumbledore, " I do understand that you despite your nephew more than anything. But, Peeves became a member of the enormous family, here at Hogwarts."  
"I'd throw him in a dustbin if I were you," gasped Uncle Gadzy, taking a quick sip of his tea.  
"No Gadzy, my old friend," said Dumbledore earnestly, "it's true that Peeves has caused many problems here. But, on the other hand, look at the bright side."  
"Whoever lives with that nutter finds darkness, not light," rejected Uncle Gadzy.  
Professor Dumbledore shook his head.  
"Only last year, he's been a great help, and happiness to all students, and teachers," spoke Professor Dumbledore, grinning at the angry old man.  
By that, Harry and Ron knew what was in Dumbledore's head.  
"He helped us get rid of a crazy strict woman, that old Cornelius Fudge sent from the Ministry of Magic, to teach the students. She was the biggest disaster. Luckily though, Ron's twin brothers here," Professor Dumbledore pointed to Ron, who suddenly stared at him, "made sure that Umbridge, that awful woman, would have hell of a life from him."  
Uncle Gadzy giggled like a maniac, ironically.  
"Still, he played jokes on her to finish her off, didn't he?" Uncle Gadzy was shaking his legs on the chair, and his eyes closed and opened as he laughed.  
"Yes, at least…I think so," replied Professor Dumbledore uncertainly, looking at Harry, who nodded his head.  
"See? He never changes!"  
"Of course he won't," spoke Professor Dumbledore, strictly, "with you turning him into a poltergeist, and sending him here for twenty six years, in which you never cared until now to ask about him. That's what made him choose the wrong route. You're the reason, old Gadzy."  
Harry, Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus looked at Dumbledore, his temper rising.  
By those words, Uncle Gadzy was silenced.  
"You five may leave, if you please," said Professor Dumbledore, "you've got classes today, you know."  
Obediently, Harry, joined by Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus got up, and went out the door, descending on the gargoyle stairs.

As soon as the five reached the ground, Ron fell on the ground, uncontrolled, like a dying cockroach.  
"What's the matter with you Ron?" asked Harry, staring at him.  
Ron was rolling over the ground, letting out laughs and vague phrases.  
"Did you hear him say 'I'd throw him in a dustbin if I were you'?"   
Harry grinned at him.  
Still laughing, unclearly, Ron said, "And did you hear him call Peeves a dingbat?"  
Dean, Neville, and Seamus looked at the helpless Ron, and began laughing.  
Harry thought carefully about Peeves and his uncle. No doubt, his uncle was far too harsh and strict on him. Just for having a rich sense of humour, it doesn't mean that it's bad…and yet, the young should respect the old. Maybe that was missing in Peeves's soul…discipline.  
"He's really mean, though," added Harry, as he helped Ron up.  
"Like we haven't noticed it yet," giggled Dean sarcastically.  
"Yeah, he's really brutal and cruel," claimed Neville, tying his tie tightly.  
Harry averted his eyes, and then glanced at his wristwatch.  
"Come on guys, we've got to eat breakfast in a minute. Classes will begin instantly if we don't hurry up," said Harry.  
Seamus and Dean looked at him strangely.  
"I wonder why Dumbledore hasn't chose you as a prefect last year," wondered Seamus.  
Harry grinned reluctantly.  
"Well, honestly, I've been through loads of trouble," began Harry confidently, "and have rescued many of your innocent necks. However, Dumbledore thought I'd have enough responsibility going around without being made a prefect. So, that's why Ron was selected."  
"Talking about the prefects," continued Ron, "what day is today?"  
"Tuesday, why?" replied Harry, curious about this question.  
At once, Ron held his hand to his forehead. It looked as though he got the sickness back.  
"Is something wrong Ron?" asked Neville.  
"God, I don't believe it!" snapped Ron.  
"What's the matter?"   
"Today's prefect duty," groaned Ron.  
"And?"  
"Hermione and I will have to go around the classes and inspect the students. McGonagall told us to do it," emphasized Ron.  
"What's wrong with that?" asked Harry.  
"Well, we were supposed to draw a chart containing all the students' names, houses, and the years they are in. Stupid me… I forgot!"  
Dean and Neville chuckled.  
"I'm not even worth being a prefect. There was never one time I remembered to do my prefect assignment!" grunted Ron angrily.  
"Well, you should've been more responsible," commented Neville.  
"Responsible?" muttered Ron. "I was sick, and then you saw me sleep!"  
"Ok, don't bite our heads off," shrieked Seamus.

Still furious, raging, and angry, Ron left the four to meet Hermione in the common room. He fancied telling her about Uncle Gadzy, but preferred pleading to her to give him a copy of the chart.

"No Ron, no,"  
"Hermione, please," begged Ron on his knees.  
"I said no! You're supposed to be more caring about your future and duties!"  
"Hermione, I was sick, and then went to bed," tittered Ron.  
"There," gurgled Hermione, "you went to bed, rather than sacrificing a small version of time to draw the chart!"  
Ron felt the tears coming.  
"Hermione…please…for friendship's sake," pleaded Ron.  
Hermione let out a groan, and stumped her foot.  
"Why did Dumbledore even think about selecting you as a prefect?" mumbled Hermione, as she took out some parchment out of her bag.  
"Here, happy?" cheered Hermione, grinning.  
"Thanks!" giggled Ron happily, and got up to hug her.

He was holding tight on to her.  
"Ok, Ron, let go," mouthed Hermione, grimacing.  
"Oh, sorry," apologized Ron, "thanks for your help! See you in prefect duty!"  
Hermione smiled at him, waved goodbye, and packed up her stuff.

Seconds later, the door of the Gryffindor Common Room sprang open, and in came Harry, joined by Dean, Seamus, and Neville.  
"I was wondering where you guys were," collaborated Hermione, "I didn't hear any noise from your dormitory, so I figured out it was empty."  
"Good thinking," complimented Harry, taking off his cloak and placing it on the armchair to dry up; it was soaked with sweat and moist from running.  
"Where were you anyway?" asked Hermione again.  
The four looked at each other, giggling.  
"You tell her Harry," ordered Seamus.  
Harry denied, "It's a long story."  
"I'd like to hear it," exclaimed Hermione, waiting for an answer.  
"Allright," replied Harry, exhausted, "at dawn, we heard a loud racket coming from downstairs. We were curious, so we went out to see who made that noise."  
"And then?" asked Hermione irritably.  
"We found out that it was Peeves, galloping away from his uncle," continued Harry.  
"His uncle?" asked Hermione, and then had a memory of the past come by. "But of course, his Uncle Gadzy arrived!"  
"That's it, that's the story," concluded Harry.  
"A few more details please; this isn't enough. Tell me, what happened after that?" asked Hermione.  
Harry pulled his head back onto the armchair, and started to breathe deeply.  
"His uncle Gadzy chased him all the way to the Great Hall. Peeves threw some sugar-water balls on him at first, and then balls of wheat. Gadzy was a terrible mess. After that, Peeves tried to murder him, by dropping him from he ceiling; however, I summoned him down in the right time. Peeves got angry, and flew away. Then, Gadzy asked us if Peeves's behaviour has improved for the past twenty-six years he's left him here. Unluckily, we replied negatively, and told him that he hasn't. Later on, he got mad. He was directly going to Dumbledore's office, and we went with him, chasing him like a cat would chase a rat. The two had a little conversation, and then Dumbledore asked us to leave. There, is this enough?"  
Hermione nodded in agreement.  
"Fascinating story," implied Hermione, "someone should write an article about this in the Daily Prophet…just for fun."  
"Yeah sure," whispered Dean and Seamus.  
Harry, starving from running all the way to the Great Hall, then to Professor Dumbledore's office, then back again to his common room, heard noises from his stomach.  
"Let's go for breakfast," suggested Harry, hungry, "I bet Ron's already headed us there."  
"Actually, he did. That's after I gave him a copy of the chart he forgot to draw for our prefect duty today," pointed out Hermione.  
"Thanks for helping Ron," acknowledged Harry.  
"Don't mention it. If it hadn't been for me, you two would fail every year," hollered Hermione.  
Harry gave her sort of an evil grin.  
"And if it hadn't been for me, you two would've been eaten by a basilisk, empty souls by dementors, and dead bodies by the attacks of the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries," claimed Harry proudly.  
"I see," squabbled Hermione softly.

Three minutes afterwards, Harry, Hermione, Seamus, Neville, and Dean marched off to the Great Hall, to have their breakfast.  
They met some students on the way, which were complaining about a loud racket they heard this morning (Peeves's shouts). Among them, was greedy, cunning, and pale Draco Malfoy.  
"Hey Potter! Potter!" roared Malfoy from afar, coming closer.  
"Yes?" answered Harry, still walking down the stairs.  
"Heard that noise at dawn Potter?"  
"Yes, so?"  
"Might've thought it was a Death Eater on the loose," barked Malfoy, laughing.  
"Just ignore him Harry," whispered Hermione into his left ear.  
"And what are you doing here, Granger?" asked Malfoy, rudely.  
"Well," began Hermione, walking into his shadow, "it doesn't matter what I'm doing here, does it? Because it's none of your business."  
Malfoy raised his eyebrows impatiently at her.  
"Manners Granger, or I'll have to report you,"  
Hermione tightened her grip.  
"Go ahead, I'd like to see you try, you foul and evil slug!" roared Hermione.  
Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville were all impressed with how Hermione began to stick up to her enemies and arch-rivals in the past years…especially in third year, when she slapped Malfoy and threatened to put a curse on him with her own wand.  
Malfoy became quiet. He gave her an evil look, and then slowly backed away with his cronies.  
"That took care of him," mumbled Hermione.  
"Good job," complimented Hermione, "you won't be needing us next time you decide to pick up a fight."  
"Do you think that girls can't stand up for themselves, and fight for their rights?" asked Hermione, smiling at him.  
"No, of course I don't think…"  
"Then give a girl a chance to prove her strength," lisped Hermione. "Never mind that now, I'm starving. Let's go."  
Without any word, Harry joined them to breakfast.

As always, the Great Hall was lighted with fire and the bright morning sun. The four house-tables were full of students who were either eating or chatting.  
Over by the teachers' table, Professor McGonagall oddly seated Professor Dumbledore's seat. Snape and the other teachers, including Professor Flitwick, Hagrid, Sinistra, and Sprout sat down on either side.  
"What's McGonagall doing on Dumbledore's chair?" choked Ron on his piece of sausage.  
"Well, Professor Dumbledore's probably at work in the Ministry or still at his office," answered Harry.  
Hermione half-disagreed, "He's probably at work."  
"Yeah, but why is she sitting on his chair?" argued Ron.  
"Forgotten something, prefect boy?" chuckled Hermione. "Professor McGonagall is Deputy Headmistress; that's why she's currently seated on his chair."  
"Oh," croaked Ron, understanding what she meant.

Harry looked around the Great Hall, which was deep in conversation. He wondered when it's going to be quiet again. He wondered when the attacks would proceed. He was anxious about what dark events would happen in the next few months. There hasn't been anything yet, except a flock of crows turning the whole castle and grounds into a trash bin, a rampaging giant that destroyed and ruined the Quidditch pitch, a huge talking crow that warned him about more attacks that would happen soon, and nothing else that he recalled. And suddenly, he remembered the vivid image of the mysterious room located in the eighth floor of the castle. The dementors…the cold sensation…the enormous wolf…the flash of green light…  
But Harry had already gone through this. He didn't want to worry about it. Maybe he still does. He still thought about Firenze's explanation, which was incomplete. He didn't complete the theory he had about Harry's dream, because he was too afraid of what would happen to his mind…devastated. Harry sometimes became so angry about Firenze, that he wouldn't even say 'hello' whenever they met.

A raging roar interrupted the deep conversations in the Great Hall.   
"Peeves, you slimy git, come back here!" this, again, was Uncle Gadzy.  
Heads and eyes turned to look at the uncle and the nephew. So that's what made the noise at dawn…  
Professor Dumbledore was right behind Uncle Gadzy, calling on him to stop barking at Peeves.  
"Calm down, my friend. Don't be a spoiled model to our students," commented Professor Dumbledore.  
"I don't care about those bloody students," growled Uncle Gadzy, eyeing every wild eye in the Great Hall. "I want that piece of dung to return with me. I'll teach him some manners."  
"Catch me if ya can, you lose'!" yelled Peeves, from above hundreds of heads.  
"I'll get you back if it's the last thing I do," murmured Uncle Gadzy, taking out his wand.  
"What's he doing?" asked Ron, shooting the mad man a closer look.  
"Aha, I'll get you now, you dirty dog!" yelled Uncle Gadzy gladly.  
"Whoa!" wailed Harry. "He hates him more than I hate Voldemort!"  
Neville, Dean, Seamus, and Ginny, who were nearby, winced at the sound of the name.  
Uncle Gadzy showed the students his awfully wicked smile, and pointed his wand upwards.  
"A little bit of magic would do the trick," he began, "Accio Peeves!"  
At once, the famous poltergeist of Hogwarts was being transferred downwards, as if an electric vacuum would suck him in straight away.  
"NOOOOOOO!" shrieked Peeves as he came closer to his uncle.  
Uncle Gadzy had a jar in his hand. He took of the lid, and Peeves went in it. Poor Peeves was trapped inside there.  
"I'd like to see you get out of here you…plague!" said Uncle Gadzy joyfully.  
"Now Gadzy, don't be ridiculous," informed Professor Dumbledore, gazing at the stuck Peeves, which has been noticed by everyone in the Great Hall, young or old, tall or short.  
"Ridiculous? You must be kidding, Dumbledore! This is the only way to put a few manners and discipline into him," claimed Uncle Gadzy, grinning wickedly at Peeves, who had his body parts all over each other.  
"Gadzy, you must understand," began Professor Dumbledore politely, "if you continue ordering him around like he was a maid of some kind, he will only grow more vicious, and develop more hatred to you. You see, the more you force him to do things he doesn't want to do, the more arrogant and disobedient he becomes."  
"Disobedient and arrogant, huh?" barked Uncle Gadzy. "Well, in that case, I'll turn him back into a human, and lock him up in his room."  
"That's even worse, my friend," spoke Dumbledore, "let him be natural. Do not force him to become cruel and mean."  
Uncle Gadzy's wicked smile vanished at once, as he felt a portion of remorse.  
"But…Dumbledore, he's worse than you can possibly imagine! He has to behave!"  
"Then teach him kindly. Be a father he never had. Treat him kindly, but don't be harsh," advised Dumbledore.  
"No," shouted Peeves from inside the jar, "I don' wanna go with him. I hate him!"  
"SHUT UP YOU TWISTED HAG!" roared Uncle Gadzy.  
"See?" began Professor Dumbledore. "You got used to this strict rude behaviour. It may take a long time to change that. So, how about leaving us for another twenty-six years, practise behaving nicely, and talking gently to people, and then finally come back to take your nephew?"  
Uncle Gadzy's face became very red.  
Laughs, giggles, and chuckles were heard from every corner of the Great Hall. Students were on the floor, laughing.  
Uncle Gadzy was very embarrassed.  
"See how you made me lose face you ungrateful dirty dingbat?" whispered Uncle Gadzy angrily to Peeves.  
Finally, he opened the lid, and Peeves was once again free and released.  
"See you in twen'y-six years!" laughed Peeves, and headed to the third floor.  
Uncle Gadzy gritted his teeth, and wished that he could murder him with his own bare hands. However, shortly after that, he packed up his luggage, and left the castle.  
Everyone was applauding for Peeves, even though he was far away in the third floor. They did hate him sometimes for playing pranks and jokes on them, but they certainly didn't want him to leave.  
"I'll write to Fred and George about this," said Ron, writing himself a note on a piece of parchment. "They'll be thrilled!"


	26. The Study Society

Later that day, at lunch, everyone in the Great Hall was talking about Uncle Gadzy's arrival and behaviour. Surprisingly, even the ignorant Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and the rest of his Slytherin gang were chuckling about the way Peeves treated his own uncle; Crabbe and Goyle's faces were very red by the time Malfoy mentioned how Uncle Gadzy ran after him like an old turtle. The way he described Uncle Gadzy made him seem like a piece of dung himself. He specifically discussed how Peeves threw the hot pepper at him that burned his eyes, and the balls of wheat. Practically, the whole Slytherin table was shaking from the students' laughter.

Over by the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were enjoying a pleasant meal full of chicken, pork chops, spaghetti and meatballs, and roast beef. Of course, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Colin Creevey, and Neville joined them for this huge meal. Their appetites were completely satisfied.  
"Did you see Gadzy's face when Peeves threw the hot pepper sugars at him?" chuckled Seamus, who eye witnessed that happen.  
"And did you notice the piece of carrot between his third and fourth upper teeth? Must've been stuck there for decades!" mouthed Dean.  
"This is nothing compared to when poor Peeves was summoned into that jar; his uncle was flying of joy!" added Neville.  
Ron grinned at Harry and Hermione, who were both finishing up their plates.  
"Honestly," whispered Ron, "they should start their own joke shop."  
Harry choked on a pork chop, helped himself to some pumpkin juice, and then stared vaguely at Ron.  
"What?" asked Harry, mystified by Ron's suggestion.  
"I mean," began Ron, lowering his head, "if they can notice all these joking traits and characteristics, I see no harm in making up their own joking-business plans."  
Hermione grinned at him, denying his thought.  
"Ron, now you're sounding like a grownup," emphasized Hermione earnestly, "they have their own future. Why would they take the path Fred and George took? Isn't there any job other than joking? I mean, it's nothing to do for living."  
"Nothing to do for living?" yelped Ron in disbelief. "Hermione, have you any eyes? When Harry, you, and I went to Hogsmeade that day, and when we discovered the Golden Wheezer Jokeshop, what did we observe happening?"  
"What?"  
"We've counted the money Fred and George made ourselves! Perhaps you don't remember so well…they've got a fortune! Why? Because they earned their money from their magnificent joking career!"

Harry laughed calmly at the state of Ron, considering Neville, Dean, and Seamus planning to have their own joke shop.  
"Then it must be you Ron, who should consider being a clown," pointed out Harry, smiling.  
Ron smirked at him, unintentionally.  
"What do you mean by that?" queried Ron.  
"What I mean is," explained Harry, "if you like this whole joking stuff too much, that might be your goal. Rather than joining us as future Aurors, you could simply hang around with kids and teach them some magical joking tricks."  
Ron's grin faded away, and then came a serious expression of disapproval.  
"Hang on," complained Ron, "you think that I'm not qualified enough to catch dark wizards and witches? You think that I'm worth being a lousy clown?"  
"Ron," began Hermione, "Harry didn't mean that you're rubbish. However, if this is your interest, you might want to consider joining your brothers."  
"Do you think that I haven't got the skills to be an Auror?" muttered Ron furiously. "As if you two have even completed sixth and seventh year, and already finished Auror training…."  
"Why are you so angry? It was just a suggestion," said Harry, sort of feeling guilty.  
"Angry? It wasn't a suggestion, Harry. This is what I call making-fun-of!" roared Ron angrily, stumping his feet on the ground.  
"Ron, calm down," pleaded Hermione, glancing at the students beside them.  
"Ron, I didn't mean at all that you weren't qualified to be an Auror, it was just an idea…look, forget about it, I'm sorry, ok?" declared Harry, asking for Ron's forgiveness.  
For some moments, Ron's eyes were wild, and his whole body was shaking nervously.  
"Allright," agreed Ron, still feeling exasperated.  
"Thanks," said Harry, and took the last couple of sips from his pumpkin juice.

"Hey," began Ron, "remind me, when is our next Quidditch match?"  
Harry sat there, trying to remember when the next match was. He told Madam Hooch to schedule it some time in mid January, but he still didn't remember.  
"Oh, yeah, I forgot," hollered Harry, "I think it's on the twelfth or fifteenth…something like that."  
"Good, because I want to smash Cho Chang to bits if we get to play against Ravenclaw," barked Ron, grinning at the pair of them.  
"Why is that?" asked Harry, mystified.  
"Cause today after your Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with the seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, she came out sobbing and crying madly," stated Ron clearly.  
"Crying? Why?" asked Hermione, wondering when was the last time she glimpsed at tear on Cho's cheek.  
"Well, I met her on the way to class, and she was complaining about the way you introduced Forbets to them. I never saw them myself until today, but they didn't turn out to be so scary, compared to the giant spiders that I fear of course. And then she said something about sacking you for teaching them something foul and scary like that in their final year. The twisted blabbing gossiping hag!"  
"She said that?" wondered Harry in disbelief. He knew that in the past he had some rows with Cho, when they used to date each other, but this? It was too cruel of a pretty kind girl to say. Any student he taught so far has never criticized him negatively.  
"Yeah," Ron went on, "and then she staggered away with her chatting friends."  
"Why, though?" interrupted Hermione. "She's never that wicked with Harry. She was even in love with him last year!"  
"Well, things in life change, don't they?" asked Harry, smiling.  
"I guess so," replied Hermione, uncertainly.  
There went the bell, loud as always, and echoing all over the school.  
"See you in prefect duty, and don't be late, because I don't want to inspect those kids alone, you know. I might get into trouble with McGonagall," giggled Ron, and marched off to Potions class. There were some thirty students that were second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws awaiting him and Hermione.  
"Why do you even inspect the students?" asked Harry, as he and Hermione got out of their seats.  
"Well, this is something new that Professor Dumbledore suggested this summer, as I was told by Professor McGonagall. She said that it was our duty as prefects to act as counselors of the school, and associate with younger students. In addition, she explained that we were the people after teachers that would offer students help at all time if they needed it. So, in this inspection duty, we ask students about how their studying is going, and if they're finding any difficulty understanding teachers' explanations."  
"Whoa!" whispered Harry, astonished by how much content lies deep inside this duty. "You must understand every bit of responsibility in this prefect duty."  
"Of course I understand Harry," reminded Harry, smiling at him, "or else, why should I have been made a prefect?"

Harry nodded.  
"See you in class!" Hermione waved goodbye, and disappeared from his sight, heading to Potions class to join Ron for prefect duty.

Meanwhile, Harry fancied a walk through the kitchens, because he had no lesson to teach or attend now. It's been quite a while since he last met Dobby, the over excited and friendly house-elf.  
Therefore, he ran downstairs; seeking the famous painting that contained the hidden secret doorknob that would lead to the kitchens.  
Harry approached the painting carefully, making sure that no student or teacher was behind him, and stretched his hand to tickle the pear in the fruit basket. Momentarily, it giggled, and a familiar doorknob appeared. He grabbed it, and then went into the kitchens of Hogwarts.   
House-elves, here and there, so busy working and preparing for dinner tonight, even though they just served lunch.  
"Harry Potter sir!" squeaked a familiar voice from over ten ovens and cleaning sinks.  
"Dobby!" shouted Harry back gladly at the adorable house-elf.  
Dobby came running, his hands busy trying to hold up seven bottles of Butterbeer.  
"Would Harry Potter like some Butterbeer?" asked Dobby, his big green tennis-like eyes widening, presenting Harry with some foamy Butterbeer.  
"Uh…no thanks Dobby, I'm full; I just had lunch," responded Harry, feeling anxious about the way Dobby would react. However, he knew that Dobby existed to help Harry in anyway; he owed him his life after he freed him from Lucius Malfoy's wicked grip.  
"As Harry Potter wishes," squeaked Dobby happily.  
"Listen, Dobby, where's Winky?"  
Dobby unmistakably flinched at the sound of her name.  
"What's the matter? Has something bad happened to her?" asked Harry curiously.  
"Bad indeed sir," belched Dobby, "Winky is going to St Mungo's Hospital."  
Harry raised his eyebrows at the sad house-elf.  
"Why?"  
"Winky is having trouble forgetting about Master Crouch. Winky is having nightmares and bad dreams, Harry Potter. Winky is out of control, sir. So, Professor Dumbledore said that Winky must be transferred to St Mungo's Hospital to rest for a month…"  
"A whole month at a hospital?" interrupted Harry.  
"Yes sir, one full month. Until Winky is recovering, she must be staying there. There is good healers at St Mungo's Hospital; they is taking good care of her."  
Sadly, Harry had a flashback about the time he first laid eyes on Winky. He perfectly discerned the looks of fright and anxiety on Winky's eyes when she was on the top box, pretending to save her master, Crouch, a seat, while Junior Barty Crouch was actually present, but concealed under his invisibility cloak. In addition to that, he knew how much Winky was afraid of heights, but she had no other choice than to obey her master's orders.  
"But she'll be back, won't she? She can't stay there permanently!" mouthed Harry.  
"Dobby hopes Winky is coming back to Hogwarts, Harry Potter. Dobby is doing nothing but hopes for Winy to be good again, and finally forgets about Master Crouch," mumbled Dobby.  
"Do you think that the reason is that she can't handle the truth and accept it?" asked Harry, knowing Dobby's response already.   
"Dobby knows how much Winky is suffering from nightmares. Dobby knows how sad Winky is when Master Crouch is sacking her. Dobby knows that Winky is sad about Mr. Crouch," said Dobby, his round green tennis-like eyes shining with tears.  
"It's allright Dobby, she'll be back once again…I hope so," Harry comforted Dobby, and went deeper into the kitchens to meet the other house-elves.   
Suddenly, while a burly looking house-elf explained to Harry how to cook a pumpkin-cream cake, Harry sensed something passing over his neck …something cold. Not someone, but sort of a spirit. But it's impossible…thought Harry. What such spirit would likely be following him this instant? He looked around him carefully as the house-elf kept on blabbing. Still curious, Harry got up from the state of kneeling down to be able to face the house-elf. The burly looking house-elf kept on gossiping even though Harry wasn't intrigued by his awfully annoying speech. Slowly, Harry took a few steps forward, exploring the place. He still felt the cold sensation of something mysterious pass by his neck, and then go away. Around the cupboards he went, and there came the cold sensation again. He felt something icy cold being dropped on his neck, which made him sort of freeze in his spot.  
Then, suddenly, he saw something unbelievable. A black shadow was climbing the wall quickly, and soon it was gone. Harry's jaw was wide open, and his eyeballs looked wild. He took of his glasses and checked to see if anything was wrong with them, but no…it was a black shadow that he saw. What was it…. thought Harry. It couldn't have been a Forbet, because he would've known; he would've seen the wisp of smoke disappear, and then a yellow shadow under his feet. Harry kept meandering around the kitchens, his eyes set on the ceiling, seeking any movement at all.   
"Is something wrong Harry Potter sir?" asked Dobby anxiously, his tennis-like eyes moving from side to side to bottom to top.   
"I...I'm not exactly sure of it, but…"murmured Harry uncertainly. Again, the black shadow appeared in front of his eyes. It was hovering between a large cake by the corner, and a huge roast beef. It was flickering, like an old light bulb would.  
"There!" shouted Harry, pointing at the hovering shadow.  
"Where?" asked Dobby.  
"There…between the pink-white cake and the greasy roast beef!" pointed out Harry.  
"What is Harry Potter talking about? What is there?" repeated Dobby, looking confused.  
"Can't you see it?"  
"See what sir?"  
"That black shadow? Sort of puffy like smoke?"  
"What is sir talking about? There is no black shadow," muttered Dobby, looking more closely at the gap between the cake and the roast beef.  
"You…you mean you can't see it?"  
"No, Harry Potter, sir. You is hallucinating; there is no shadow,"  
"I'm not imagining this! I saw it climb the wall, and up to the ceiling!"  
"Harry Potter must rest," mouthed Dobby, "Harry Potter is sick."  
"Dobby, first I sensed it pass my neck, then I saw it climb the wall! And now it's hovering right there," said Harry, pointing at the cake and roast beef again.  
"You is very sick and tired, sir. You is getting no sleep," suggested Dobby, and then called on some house-elves to escort Harry to the exit doors of the kitchens.  
"But I'm telling the truth…I saw it," yelled Harry, over the dozen hands that were pushing him away.  
"Come back later, Harry Potter, you is needing rest," squeaked Dobby from afar, waving goodbye.

Politely, the house-elves tried to push Harry out of the doors. However, due to his arrogance, they ended up shoving him out. He was slightly injured in the waist, but managed to get going.   
He was confused now. He was able to see a mysterious black shadow crawl up the wall, and onto the ceiling, and the house-elves did not. Dobby, that is to say, did not. Harry was sure that his finger was pointing straight at the space between the large cake and the roast beef, in other words, he clearly pointed out the black shadow. Still, Dobby claimed that he didn't see anything. Could it be, though? Could house-elves not have the ability to see things like shadows and spirits? Harry wasn't entirely sure about that; the only person he knew that would know the answer was Hermione, who was absolutely obsessed with house-elf rights.

So, half an hour later, when the bell finally rang, Harry was waiting outside the Potions class, leaning on the wall. Out came the second year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, followed by Hermione and Ron. Ron seemed to be exhausted from this heavy duty; however, Hermione was, as always, glad to help students and help them out with difficulties.

"Believe me Harry, you're lucky you weren't made a prefect. That duty was a nightmare!" declared Ron.  
"No it's not a nightmare, it's more like a dream, that was eventually a nightmare," disagreed Hermione, and gave the two a grin.  
"What was it like?" asked Harry, pretending to be curious.  
"It was…"began Ron.  
"A disaster!" Hermione finished up the sentence for him.  
He glared at her.  
"Really?" asked Harry again, while he glimpsed Peeves flying over some statues.  
"Yes," continued Hermione happily, "we were walking around the class as Professor Snape explained all about their new potion, and we saw students take notes. They are much better than third, fourth, and fifth years. At least they've got some manners."  
"Probably, they're afraid that Snape might drown them in a slimy potion filled with frog legs and spiders!" spattered Ron, laughing.  
Hermione sighed and scratched her left hand.  
"So, anyway, when they started their work, we went around and tried to help them," Hermione went on, "but Professor Snape rejected, and said that they should be doing work by their own."  
"What else would he say?" asked Harry sarcastically.  
"The great big ball of grease ordered to correct his late papers for him, the nutter," grumbled Ron.  
"What?"  
"Yeah," continued Hermione, agreeing with Ron, "after the fifth time we tried to help a second year, he lost his temper and nearly kicked us out of his class."  
Harry raised both eyebrows.  
"Luckily though, he didn't." scoffed Ron. "But even worse, he handed us some fifty rolls of parchment to correct, using the answer key on top."  
"Look at our hands," exclaimed Hermione, rubbing her right palm.  
"Whoa!"  
"They're practically numb from writing," argued Ron, "someday, I'll have the guts to report him. He's worse than Umbridge!"  
"I'm really sorry for what happened inside there," apologized Harry.  
"There's no need to be sorry," acknowledged Hermione, "you didn't make us correct all those rolls of parchment."  
Harry giggled.  
"If this prefect duty has worn you out, then it's nothing compared to being a teacher," added Harry.  
"You mean this wasn't enough damage?" asked Ron, disgusted.  
"No, I mean that being a teacher takes even more responsibility," explained Harry, "I have to sit down at noon and correct hundreds of rolls of parchment. Also, I'll have to plan my lessons for five classes a week before the actual lessons. It's really wearisome."  
Hermione nodded her head. She knew that great responsibility comes with age.  
"I don't know about you Harry," stated Ron, "but I assure you this was enough."

Later on, after the school day ended at last, the trio joined Neville, Dean, Seamus, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ginny, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil in the common room for a new studying group that Dennis Creevey came up with. He called it the SS, referring to the "Study Society". Clearly, the hard work was getting tougher and tougher each day. Even Dennis, who was only a third year, found his studies becoming more difficult as each day goes by. The intensity of homework was pulling the fifth years apart. The careful, long, and intensive studying required by all sixth years was snapping their heads. Therefore, Dennis, the youngest of all Gryffindors in this group, came up with a bright idea that would lead to organization of studying. All first years would meet on Saturday afternoons. Second years on Sundays, third years on Mondays, fourth years on Tuesdays, fifth years on Wednesdays, sixth years on Thursdays, and finally seventh years on Fridays. That way, students of the same year would gather and discuss the topics they're taking in daily subjects. Yet, Colin, who happened to be Dennis's brother, came up with another idea. He suggested that there should be three people left in charge of the group. He pointed out three positions. The most prominent one was being the leader. Second, was what Colin called the "organizing worker", whose job was to help organize all the papers and put them in stacks and piles. Third, he suggested that each team should have a "messenger". The messenger's job was to remind students about when meeting were to be held, when activities were carried out, and most importantly, delivering a message from the leader if he or she was absent from the meeting and couldn't come for some reason.

"This is brilliant, how did you ever come up with this perfect idea?" Hermione was congratulating Dennis Creevey on his thinking, which had gone red and shy.  
"I..I...thought things were all messed up, and students were going back in academic achievement…so...um…I merely suggested having the SS, when my brother Colin spread the news all over the Gryffindor Common Room," replied a bashful Dennis Creevey.  
"Well, it's a good thing he did. What we always needed here was some organization," smiled Ron, giving Dennis a wink.  
"Anyway, we'll have to write a form that is prefect approved to get this society going on," stated Hermione, knowing that Ron had no clue what she was talking about.  
"What?" asked Ron, perplexed.  
"Remember, any meetings, organizations, societies, or any other secret teams should have a specific form with all the members' names written on it, to allow it to be going on without any rejections. Don't you remember Professor McGonagall reminding us about it in Christmas?"  
"Oh, right," agreed Ron, and turned to Harry.  
"Good luck," complimented Harry, "I bet it's going to be better than the DA, now that Umbridge and Fudge are gone."  
"You bet it'll be loads better without those two cockroaches," implied Ron.  
"Aren't you going to be part of this?" asked Hermione.  
"Me? No, I have enough responsibility to go on with, as Dumbledore said last year," informed Harry confidently.  
"Why are you such a spoil sport? It'll be fun!" giggled Ron.  
"Look who's talking," muttered Hermione ironically.  
"No, really, I can't. I'm very busy preparing and teaching lessons these days," repeated Harry.  
"As the boy who lived wishes," said Hermione, smiling cutely at him.

Ten minutes later, Hermione and Ron managed to come up with an official form that would allow this society to begin its work. It looked fancy with all the designs that Dean drew, and neat with the brilliant writing of Hermione. It included seven long columns that were filled with students' names or signatures. Practically, every Gryffindor participated, excluding some stuck up seventh years. Then, at the bottom, were two short lines below a heading: Prefect Approved. On those two lines, Hermione and Ron wrote their names. After that, Hermione rolled the piece of parchment and got up from the chair beside the fire.  
"I'm going to see McGonagall about this," she informed everybody who was listening.  
"Better hurry up," added Neville, "I want to know when we'll start."  
"We'd better select you as the messenger, Neville," reported a cute little first year Gryffindor girl.  
Neville giggled, and grinned at her.  
Soon, Hermione had left the Gryffindor Common Room.  
"Hey, Ron," started Harry, "I want to tell you something."  
Ron, who was discussing chaser moves with Neville, turned his head to Harry.  
"What?"  
"Today, after you and Hermione left for your prefect duty, I fancied visiting the kitchens," continued Harry.  
Ron, who didn't even seem to notice Harry talking, said, "So?"  
"I met Dobby," prattled Harry, "and he told me that Winky was gone."  
"Gone where? It had better be…"  
"He said that she was to rest at St Mungo's for a whole month," explained Harry.  
"What's bad with that? It would give the rest of the house-elves a break from her!"  
Harry glared at him, laughing about such important matter.  
"What I'm trying to say is that she's gone too far with her problem not being able to accept the truth, and live with it," spoke Harry earnestly while Ron was still giggling.  
"I know Harry," said Ron, "but it's even better for her to take a vacation."  
"Ron, don't you see it? Isn't it obvious?"  
"What?"  
"If she stops working, she'll simply collapse!" barked Harry. "She loves to work, and especially for her old master, Mr. Crouch. Now that he's gone, she's got no other choice but live through the nightmare. She loved him, you know."  
Ron stared at Harry for a moment, as though he was meeting a stranger for the first time.  
"Since when did you care about house-elves this much?" asked Ron.  
"Since Kreacher betrayed us last year!" croaked Harry.  
"Whatever you do, don't mention his name," said Ron, disgusted. He knew how much of a burden the members of the Order had to carry while Kreacher was present at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place; and especially poor old Sirius.  
"Allright," twittered Harry nervously, "I think we should visit her in the hospital sometime in February."  
"How about the fourteenth of it?" giggled Ron, sarcastically.  
"Why should we go on Valentine's Day? We're only meeting a house-elf," discussed Harry.  
"Yeah," murmured Ron, "and we're going there to show Winky how much we lover her, right?"  
"No we're not!" cried Harry, embarrassed. "We're going there to comfort her, and ask how her health is."  
"Oh, she'll be fine," wailed Ron, looking tired from this conversation.  
Harry shook his head.  
"Ron, we have to go there sometime," whimpered Harry, "for God sake, we had to get out of school to visit your dad last year!"  
"Yes, but that was different," said Ron, "he was an inch from death! This time, we're just visiting another lousy magical creature!"  
"Fine, you stay here. Hermione and I will go," proclaimed Harry.  
Ron raised his eyebrows, as if he heard something new come out of his best friend's mouth.  
"It's always Hermione. Why are you mentioning her a lot these days?" asked Ron.  
Harry's face turned red momentarily.  
"I'm not," denied Harry.  
"Yes you are," refused Ron  
"No I'm not!" barked Harry.  
"Yes you are," argued Ron.  
"Fine! I am, what's the problem with that?" screeched Harry, trying to be innocent.  
"Is something going between…"  
"No there's nothing going between us, we're just friends like we've always been," cried Harry hastily, and then got up, heading to his bed.  
Ron chuckled as he watched Harry climb up the stairs. He must've had some hint that Harry's feelings changed towards Hermione. It's true; Harry's risked the exposure of it when he started mentioning Hermione's name in conversations.

Twelve minutes later, the common room's door sprang open, as Hermione walked in.  
"Any success?" asked Seamus.  
"We've done it!" spoke Hermione, beaming at everyone. "We're officially running the Study Society!"  
Ginny dashed between the dozen heads, and hugged Hermione.  
"Thank you for this, we owe you," complimented Ginny.  
"You don't owe me anything," reminded Hermione gladly, as she remembered Harry's quote, "friends don't owe each other anything; they're just there for their help."  
Ginny grinned at her, and then took the form. On the bottom, beside Hermione and Ron's signatures, was another scribbled type of signature, which must've belonged to head of Gryffindor house, Professor McGonagall.  
"Look everyone, we did it!" yelled Ginny over all the heads.  
Neville, Dean, and Seamus, who desperately needed order and organization for their studying, applauded, and so did everybody.

The loud noise of applause and cheering reached the boys' dormitory, moving Harry's legs to the ground.

"Harry! Harry! We did it! We're running the Study Society!" cried a happy Neville.  
Harry had a grin on his face.  
"Congratulations!"

A few seconds later, Harry came down the stairs to look at the official form that Professor McGonagall. There he saw the evidence, her signature.  
"So," began Harry, looking at Hermione, "when are you going to start?"  
"We'll begin these meetings next Saturday," claimed Hermione, "that's what Professor McGonagall told me to begin on next Saturday. Our meetings will be held in her classroom, as she appointed, every day of the week, at six o'clock. And as young Dennis Creevey suggested, beginning on Saturdays, we'll start with first years."  
"Ok," whinnied Harry, "have you chosen the three main leaders?"  
"Oh," Hermione went on, "yes, Professor McGonagall had a shrewd idea about who should hold those positions. She personally appointed me as a leader…"  
"But of course," interrupted Harry, "who else would be leader if not the cleverest witch of her year?"  
"Don't be ridiculous! If you don't believe me…"  
"I do… I mean I'm just proud of you," said Harry, his face becoming scarlet.  
Hermione smiled at him.  
"So, anyway, like I said, she selected me as the leader. Then, she said that the organizing worker should be none other than Dennis himself. And finally, the messenger is Neville."  
"That's what a first year girl guessed when you left!" commented Harry. "So, did she like the idea of it?"  
"Absolutely!" cried Hermione gladly. "She awarded Gryffindor house fifty points!"  
"Wow!" cried Harry enthusiastically.  
"I know," agreed Hermione.  
"Listen, I had a little chat with Ron while you were gone…" and he told her all about Winky's issue.  
"Oh, I agree with you," said Hermione, "I mean, no doubt, Winky needs someone to suppress those intense feelings of guilt and sadness. I see no harm at all in visiting her. That is to say…when?"  
"Well," started Harry, "what about February?"  
"Oh, that'll be nice!" muttered Hermione. "If we go on the fourteenth, it would be great."  
"Valentine's day?" asked Harry ironically. "Honestly, is Ron's mind directly connected to yours?"  
"What are you talking about?"  
"He suggested the exact same date!"  
"So? Everybody knows the value of Valentine's Day!"  
"Why can't you find any day other than that? Can't we go on the eleventh or something?"  
"Fine with me Harry," giggled Hermione, "as long as we get to see Winky."  
"Thanks for your cooperation!"  
"You're welcome," said Hermione, and she intended to go to her dormitory.  
"Wait," whispered Harry, and he accidentally grabbed her from the wrist.  
"Oh, sorry," apologized Harry, soon letting go of her hand.  
"No problem, got something else to say?"  
"Yeah, listen," started Harry, "today, while I was exploring the kitchens, something odd happened."  
"Like what?"  
"Patience,"  
"Allright,"  
"So, as a little annoying house-elf was trying to explain a few recipes," started Harry, "I felt something cold pass over my neck."  
Hermione got the oh-no look.  
"What happened?"  
"At first, I felt it right over my neck; it was as cold as ice," Harry went on, "then, it vanished. Moments later, when I walked around for a bit, I discerned it clearly climbing up the wall."  
"What was?"  
"A shadow," explained Harry, "a black one. And then, it changed position and hovered between a cake and a roast beef. I told Dobby about it, but he thought I'd gone hysterical. He didn't see it."  
"Maybe you're just halluc…"  
"I'm not hallucinating! I really saw it!"  
"What was it doing? Did it harm you in any way?"  
"No but…but it seemed very odd to have a shadow wonder among the house-elves in the kitchens. I mean…it definitely wasn't a Forbet, because I would've known."  
Hermione now was confused and mystified.  
"Do you see what I'm trying to say here? It was trying to get my attention, and it did!"  
"I see," began Hermione, staring at the floor, "I can just say be careful Harry."  
"That's all? A shadow comes following me and all you say to me is be careful?"  
"What else do you want me to say, Harry?" asked Hermione, giggling. Harry, too, laughed. "Ok, see here, where's that sword Professor Lupin gave you in summer?"  
"What?" asked Harry; as if he had no idea what she was talking about. "Oh, that sword, it's in my trunk."  
"And that's the exact opposite of what Professor Lupin told you to do!" shrieked Hermione. "He said that you were supposed to carry it with you everywhere you go. That way, you could've sensed danger easily, and we would've had a greater chance to prepare for it."  
"How do you know all this?"  
"Hello? You told back in September, don't you remember?"  
Harry scratched his head, going back in the past to the point where he told Hermione about the sword.  
"Yes, now I remember," said Harry, grinning. "Good thinking, I should carry it with me more often."  
"As if you ever did carry it," spoke Hermione, smiling at him.

"Hey, Hermione!" shouted Dean from beside the fire. "You didn't tell us, who's the leader, messenger, and…what's that you call, Dennis?"  
"The organizing worker," squeaked Dennis.  
"That's right," continued Dean. "So?"  
"Oh well," began Hermione earnestly, "when I spoke to Professor McGonagall, she selected me as the leader, Dennis as the organizing worker, and Neville as the messenger."  
"I knew it!" shouted Parvati Patil.  
"Good for you Hermione," complimented Neville.  
"Thanks, good luck to you too," replied Hermione, beaming at every face.  
"Nice going there," spoke Ron, who had been ignored by Harry for a couple of minutes.  
"How does it feel Ron, not having a higher position?" asked Harry, chuckling.  
"Now he's sounding like Malfoy," whispered Ron quietly to Ginny, who giggled.  
"Long lives the Study Society!" shouted Dennis, the own creator of this whole society.  
"Long lives the Study Society!" hailed everybody else.

Fifteen minutes later, after a little celebration the Study Society members had, Ron approached Harry.  
"I'm going to the Owlery," spewed Ron, giggling softly, "I'm going to write to Fred and George about this Study Society, and most importantly, about Uncle Gadzy!"  
This time, it was Harry who had fallen on the floor, dying of laughter.  
"Get up, baby," said Ron, making fun of Harry.  
"Don't be late!" hurled Harry.  
"What, need me to kiss you goodnight or something?" asked Ron, was inches from the door.  
Harry grabbed the nearest pillow form him, and threw it on Ron. Still giggling about Harry, Ron walked out of the common room.  
"What's the matter with you two?" asked Hermione.  
"A shift of personalities if you ask me," informed Harry quickly, and then started yawning.  
Hermione didn't know what he was talking about.  
"Ok, I'm going to bed," confirmed Hermione.  
"Aren't you going to stay up to give a speech about how to combine the SS with S.P.E.W?" asked Harry, laughing at her.  
She let out a sigh, and climbed up the stairs.  
"Goodnight," said Harry, waving goodbye.  
"It's not even night," speculated Hermione, "I'm just going to take a quick nap, and mind you keep your voice down!"  
She was talking to the rest of the Gryffindors.  
"What else should I say? Good morning?"  
"Oh… never mind," said Hermione hastily, and then went into her dormitory.  
"Very amusing," whispered Harry to himself.


	27. Following the Shadow

27 (Following the Shadow)

Harry climbed up the stairs, and directly headed to his dormitory. It was empty, for his entire fellow sixth year Gryffindors gathered downstairs. He crept up to his bed and lay there. Harry was very proud of Dennis Creevey, the creator of the Study Society himself. He realized that his leadership skills are better than the rest of his mates, who where his, Dennis's, age. Also, Harry has seen a remarkable improvement in his grades lately. Probably, with Harry's high marks, Dennis was encouraged to come up with something that would serve the school. Anyway, it was very smart of him to think of such a society that would keep order between students, organize their work, and offer them any help they needed. And off went Harry's mind, to the days of before…  
Harry was in the Room of Requirement, discussing the rules of being a DA member for the first time…Harry was teaching them about stunning spells…Ron beat Hermione luckily with the Expelliarmus disarming spell…Cho was being lousy…Neville had succeeded in the Expelliarmus spell…Hermione's Patronus changed into an otter…And then, suddenly, his thoughts and memories were interrupted by the most unpleasant sight…Voldemort was fighting Dumbledore in the Department of Mysteries…the flash of green light hit the statue, missing Dumbledore…

Harry woke up with fear in his eyes; he didn't know whether it was a memory or an actual nightmare. He looked around him, dreading that the worst may come. But nothing, Voldemort wasn't around him, nor were his Death Eaters. He was safe and secure, but still worried and apprehensive about what he just saw in his nap. He wondered…why were these visions repeating themselves in his sleep? Did he not have enough practice with Occlumency last year? But of course, that was the reason. If only Harry wasn't attracted to the Pensieve that lay on Snape's desk…if only he didn't creep into his worst memory ever…then he would have been arriving on afternoons at Snape's dungeon. He would've had more time to free his mind of thoughts, and thus avoiding being mind-manipulated by Voldemort. Harry felt remorse for doing such thing; guilt far beyond any other guilt. He truly regretted what happened in those days. But again, if all of that didn't occur, what would've happened then? Would Snape have torn him apart with the wearisome practice? Would his memories still be exposed to others'? And yet…although Snape despises Harry and loathes him more than anything else, he couldn't betray Professor Dumbledore's trust. He couldn't have left Harry alone in the dark, with no help on his side. Beside that, he was already a member of the Order. Harry's mind was crammed with thoughts and wonders, and no more space was left for the coming days.

Tired as he was, Harry got out of bed, not even caring to tidy up the messy blanket. He stared at his watch, and got a look of surprise on his face. Busy worrying about the past and future, Harry hadn't noticed the time fly by. What seemed like minutes to him has actually been hours. Two whole hours, which seemed rather short to Harry, have passed since Harry put his head on the pillow to recline.

Quickly, Harry dressed up, picked up his wand, and pushed the door open. There came the light of the glowing fire from downstairs, which slightly blinded him. Harry didn't notice anyone there; probably, they would've all left him alone, hungry for dinner.

"Hello," yawned Harry, as he joined Hermione, Ron, and Neville for a meal.  
"Welcome back," sputtered Neville, spitting bits of sausage out of his mouth.  
"What were you doing for the last two hours?" asked Ron, piercing his chicken leg with a golden fork.  
"Sleeping…very tired," yawned Harry again, losing his appetite as he saw Dean spit the chicken bones out of his mouth.  
"We waited for you," murmured Hermione, "but it seemed that it would take you ages to wake up, after all what happened."  
"How do you know?" queried Harry, surprised. "You were asleep too!"  
"I know," replied Hermione, "but I woke up ages before you did. I only slept for half an hour, and how lousy it was."  
Ron looked at the two curiously.  
"Anyway, here I am," commented Harry.   
"What did you see in your dreams?" asked Ron, grinning at him.  
"How do you know I've been dreaming?"  
"Well, naturally, nightmares end quickly… and so do beautiful dreams," chattered Ron, grinning at Harry, and then averting his eyes from him to Hermione.  
Harry stared at him, wondering if Ron was getting better in Divination.  
"To tell the truth, I have been dreaming," admitted Harry uneasily.  
"Well?" asked Hermione impatiently.  
"The dreams have been repeating themselves recently, and…they…well, I must say that they do me no good," explained Harry vaguely.  
"What do you mean?" asked Ron. "Hang on, were you dreaming about…." From the side of his left eye, he looked at Hermione.  
"No I wasn't Ron!" roared Harry angrily. "And stop this nonsense!"  
Ron laughed at him, silenced by the looks of his serious solemn eyes. He took some lamb chops from the plate beside his sister, Ginny.  
"Anyway, I keep having these dreams about last year, and the years before. At first, they're peaceful, and they remind me about the great times we had together in the DA, and the previous years. But then, dark memories come back to me. It's like when I'm in the dream, I'm trying to push them away, but no use," gossiped Harry.  
Hermione nodded her head, understanding what he meant perfectly.  
"Honestly Harry, you should go see Firenze about this," said Hermione, knowing that her advice won't be any use to Harry.  
And indeed, he laughed sarcastically when she mentioned his name.  
"Allright, then, see Dumbledore about it," argued Hermione.  
"Why would Dumbledore even bother listening? He's had enough last year!"  
"I'm sure that Dumbledore would do whatever it takes to protect you…an us too," continued Hermione earnestly.  
"Look," stammered Harry, beginning to get exasperated, "why don't you be sensible here? I mean, isn't time that we depend on ourselves?"  
"On ourselves?" asked Hermione in disbelief. "Harry, we're way too young to handle evil."  
"Is that so? Then how come I was only eleven when I saved the Philosopher's Stone? How come I was only twelve when I killed the basilisk and finished off Riddle? How come I was only thirteen when I saved Sirius, Buckbeak, and saved your neck from the dementors? How come I was only fourteen when I battled through the tournament and saw him again in the graveyard? And how come I was only fifteen when I was able to handle the Death Eaters, and save my friends which include you?" Harry was enraged now. He could feel the anger in his chest, and he pretty much desired to get it out at any price.  
"Harry, I understand you quite well, and I appreciate what you've done, and believe me, I'm very grateful to you," these were Hermione's soothing words, which had a great effect on lowering the pressure down to normal.  
"Hermione, look, I'm sorry…" began Harry, apologizing for his behaviour, "all I meant was… we're in terrible danger, and these horrific dreams that keep on repeating themselves in my sleep may be an omen of imprisonment in the future, or worse…death."  
"But those dreams…you've had them before, and the content within occurred no matter what we did, and this was all part of the past," twittered Hermione.  
"Exactly," groaned Harry, as he poured him some apple juice, "just imagine being a prisoner of your mind. If this goes on for so long, I'll never be able to sleep calmly again."  
"Which you won't," interrupted Ron.  
Harry shifted his eyes to him, as if he just realized that Ron spoke.  
"How do you know I won't?" asked Harry, wondering what Ron was thinking about this very moment.  
"Well, it's simple, isn't it?" began Ron. "You should start to consider practicing Occlumency."  
"And do you think it's as simple as that?" asked Harry.  
"No, I do not think it's easy, because I know the suffering you went through last year. Anyways, if you want your mind protected from evil's control, you'd better start practicing."  
"Ron, you don't know anything about the torturing Harry had to get used to last year," talked Hermione.  
"Look, whatever you decide to do, I was just trying to help!" twined Ron.  
"Well, thank you very much; if your help means pain and agony, no sir."  
Ron frowned at him, and then he felt disappointed.

"Hey, Potter!" screamed the cold voice of Draco Malfoy.  
"What now?" muttered Harry to himself.   
Malfoy approached the Gryffindor, terribly disgusted from the sight of Dean throwing out his pork chops.  
"Hey Potter! Look at this!" whimpered Malfoy, holding out the Daily Prophet that arrived since morning.  
Reluctantly, Harry grabbed the Daily Prophet from his hand, and stared at the front page. Meanwhile, Malfoy was busy shooting Hermione and Ron loathing looks.

_The Ministry of Magic has just been informed of a massive breakout of some forty Death Eaters from Azkaban Prison. Only last June, the very same Death Eaters were caught in the Department of Mysteries fighting a courageous group of students from Hogwarts, whose leader was Harry Potter _(Harry was very glad that they mentioned his name)_. A few days later, those Death Eaters, including a previous governor of the school, Lucius Malfoy, were sent to Azkaban prison. For seven months, the Ministry of Magic had assured that the Death Eaters were well guarded and imprisoned with the help of the dementors. Only yesterday, the Ministry heard that some forty cells in Azkaban had been emptied, and the bars were clearly broken. Nobody knows how the Death Eaters ever managed to free themselves of their capture after seven months with their souls almost gone. Truly, it was a mistake, indeed, that the Ministry didn't order the dementors to perform their kiss on the dark Death Eaters. Fear awaits those who are safe at magical lands, and Hogwarts School in particular. The Ministry of Magic is now trying its best to locate all the Death Eaters at once, and avoid their arrival at Hogwarts, for they might spread fear and fright as servitude to their master, He Who Must Not Be Named.   
_  
Every line of news seemed to be deeper and more significant in meaning than the one before. Harry's eyes were moving quickly from left to right, and then from right to left. The words he read made him alarmed. Although he had enough guts, courage, and bravery to face the Death Eaters like he did last year, he wasn't sure it was a perfect idea, for he doesn't know what they've got planned in their dark evil minds.  
The Daily Prophet was now shaking rapidly in Harry's grip. He slowly stared at Malfoy, who had a nasty grin on his face.  
"I told you, Potter," began Malfoy happily, "I told you they'd come back someday; I told you you'll pay."  
Harry's eyes widened as he glared furiously at Malfoy.  
"And now the Daily Prophet has reminded you again," quacked Malfoy, gazing at Crabbe and Goyle, who were both satisfied with this bit of news, "that my word was true. You see, Potter, my father and his fellow Death Eaters aren't easy to control, because they've been trained personally by the Dark Lord."  
"Look here you piece of slime," grunted Harry angrily, "whatever your father and his friends decide to do, we'll be ready for him. And if that means you joining him for a bit of glory, please be free to do so, because it'll be my absolute pleasure finishing you off with him."  
Malfoy's face turned pink, as he glared at Harry impatiently.  
"Well, let us hope that we could stay all night watching you battle with my father and his friends," laughed Malfoy, "better start the fight in the Quidditch pitch, because there's no enough space here to fight you and your pathetic side-kicks."

At those very words, Harry waited no more. He was gritting his teeth, and his fist was ready. He was going to raise it any time now…  
"May I have your undivided attention here?" came the warm voice of old Professor Dumbledore. Malfoy backed away, joining the stuck-up Slytherins.  
"Now, I would like to say that there's been a change in schedule for the next Hogsmeade trip. It has been postponed from February third, to fourteenth."  
Ron moaned when he heard.  
"Great," he argued quietly, "now we can visit Winky at St Mungo's Hospital, go to Honeydukes and The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop, and enjoy Valentine's Day at the very same time."  
Harry giggled at Ron. Hermione, on the other hand, paid not attention to the little chat. She was carefully listening to Professor Dumbledore.  
"The staff and I thought that it was wise to have a holiday on Valentine's Day. Anyway, we need a bit of emotions and feelings here to suppress the intense feelings of hard work and tests," explained Professor Dumbledore clearly. "I think that's all. Please, continue eating, for the feast hasn't ended yet."

Obediently, rather hastily, everyone's eyes went back to their old position, which was their plate.  
Harry didn't feel like eating, so he intended to get up, when Ron pulled him back down.  
"So, what was that talk with Malfoy about?" asked Ron, rather intrigued.  
Harry let out a sigh, and then began talking.  
"He showed me an article on the front page, which I hadn't noticed as I read earlier this morning," began Harry, satisfying Ron's curiosity, "it said that Malfoy's father and company (he meant his fellow Death Eater) escaped from their cells at Azkaban, in addition to the Ministry's hard work that included searching for the Death Eaters' locations."  
Ron raised his eyebrow, and swallowed a lump. Anxiety filled his heart.  
"And?" asked Hermione, who happened to be listening to their conversation too.  
"That's what the whole point of it was," mouthed Harry, hoping that he wouldn't need more explanation to provide.  
"This rings a bell," spoke Hermione, digging a way into her memory and mind, "maybe that's why Dumbledore changed the date, the one for visiting Hogsmeade?"  
Harry and Ron nodded.  
"But why? What good will it do?" requested Harry.  
"Don't you see? He wants us all away from school, so that he'll be free to find out more about the Death Eaters that are on the loose,"  
"What about the first and second years? They're not permitted to visit the village," pointed out Harry.  
"I know, but he will have his own way of protecting them, he'd probably send them home," discussed Hermione.  
"And that means…" began Ron.  
"That the Death Eaters will arrive here sooner or later." Hermione finished up the sentence.  
Harry was in deep thought.  
"But then, how come Dumbledore doesn't expect them to come any earlier? I mean, they've got more than enough time to come here. Why would they wait till February?" asked Ron curiously.  
"Again, I keep telling you," spluttered Hermione, "Voldemort and his Death Eaters never act unless they've had it all planned."  
"So you're suggesting that they're having a tour around Europe for one month and then they're going to attack?" said Ron ironically, which made Hermione enrage.  
"Don't be silly! Not in these matters!" stammered Harry; he didn't like it when Ron was joking about serious stuff like this.  
"Sorry," apologized Ron, "so, what are we going to do now?"  
Harry shook his head, and let out a sigh.  
"I'll guess we'll have to wait until February to find out," murmured Harry.  
"By the way, Harry," began Ron, "I wanted to talk to you about the Wronski Feint."  
"What about it?" asked Harry, a bit glad to change the subject to something he likes, Quidditch.  
"I thought we should take turns in practicing it," suggested Ron.  
"We? Ron, it's a dangerous Seeker diversion," recited Harry.  
"I know, but…what would go wrong if all the team members tried it?" asked Ron.  
Harry raised an eyebrow, and grinned at Ron.  
"Who do you think you are? Victor Krum?" asked Harry, giggling at Ron, who got slightly shy.  
"No, but…well, we've got to try some new moves in our training sessions; we could even do it on our next match," cheered Ron.  
"Why are you over the moon about it?" asked Hermione, who has never seen Ron in this state.  
"I don't know; maybe I'm the legendary Charlie Weasley's shadow or something," continued Ron humorously.   
Both Harry and Hermione chuckled.  
"Nice metaphor, Ron," complimented Hermione.  
Ron got a look of confusion and satisfaction at the same time.  
"So, what do you think?" asked Ron impatiently.  
"Ron, I myself, the seeker of Gryffindor team, have never tried it before!" confirmed Harry.  
"Then I suppose it's time for you to do so." squabbled Ron. "Just imagine yourself riding the broom, and all of a sudden you're diving sixty or fifty feet to catch the snitch. Would you crash? Or perhaps fly up straight away due to heavy training?"  
"Ron, if you want to master the Wronski Feint, go ahead and read Quidditch Throughout the Ages or another book," advised Harry, "I'm telling you, it's very advanced, and even the best of the best here at Hogwarts wouldn't be able to do it."  
"Even Victor found difficulty performing it in the World Cup," added Hermione.  
Ron nodded.  
"I just thought I'd like to do something useful to our team," croaked Ron.  
"We appreciate your help, Ron. Some things aren't just that easy to accomplish and master," commented Harry. He felt some guilt and over self-confidence to not agree with Ron's brilliant suggestion. Long has he desired to perform the Wronski Feint in front of an audience, but he had never actually tried it.   
"Ok Ron," agreed Harry, "if we find suitable time, we'll try it out. Just for you, mate."  
On came the cheer and happiness, and away went the sadness and disappointment.  
"Thank you Harry," beamed Ron at him. Hermione smiled at Harry, too.  
"I've always thought of mastering an advanced move on the Quidditch pitch," stated Harry, "but I've been too cowardly to not even try it."  
Ron nodded in agreement.  
"Thanks to you, we'll win the Quidditch Cup this year, hopefully," smiled Hermione. Harry grinned at her, and gave her a thumbs-up.

Quarter of an hour later, every shimmering light in the Great Hall began to become dimmer. Every student, even those who didn't finish up their plates, left the four house tables, and headed directly to their dormitory.

Of course, the eight prefects were busy chasing some mischievous first years that fancied a walk in the school grounds. Luckily, Hermione and Ron were able to summon five first year Hufflepuffs right in time, before they reached Hagrid's hut. Ron thought about putting them in detention; however, he didn't feel it was necessary to do such thing just for walking outside the castle. Hermione, on the other hand, warned them about doing such a thing again. She pointed out that leaving the castle and wandering alone in the grounds could eventually lead to loss of students in the Dark Forest.  
"Remember us Hermione, in first year?" asked Ron, laughing.  
"Yes, what's your point?"  
"I was just thinking. We were warning them about not wandering alone in the grounds, and that reminded me of us. We didn't use to care what happened to our safety."  
"Well, at least we had a goal already set. And we achieved it when we saved the Philosopher's Stone," replied Hermione, soon reaching the front gate.

Leaning on the wall, waited Harry. Hermione and Ron came into view, their shadows moving rapidly on the wet green grass.  
"Those first year Hufflepuffs are a mess, you know," hollered Ron.  
"Why?" asked Harry, pushing the door open, and the three stepped in.  
"We're lucky we summoned them back in time, but you should've seen them," emphasized Ron.  
"They were rolling in the wet grass, and mud was covering their robes from top to bottom," speculated Hermione, who was giggling.  
"Then the little nasty gang thought of stepping into Hagrid's hut, to clean up themselves and have a nice cup of tea," added Ron.  
"Anyway, we summoned them quickly before a boy stretched his hand to knock on the door," muttered Hermione hastily, longing for sitting beside the fire in the common room.  
Harry kept on laughing as he pictured the five first year Hufflepuffs rolling on the grass like dogs, and then getting soaked with mud, like a hippopotamus enjoying a mud-bath.

Later, Harry, Hermione, and Ron reached the Fat Lady's Portrait.  
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady, as usual.  
"Pineapple pudding," reported Harry instantly, although the password seemed a bit weird.  
Obediently, the door sprang open, and the three stepped in.  
Colin and Dennis Creevey were seated on the same armchair; discussing some responsibilities that Dennis has to get used to, for he was made the organizing worker. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were on the ground, playing a game of Gobstones. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were finishing up their Transfiguration homework that was due the next day.  
"Harry, Harry!" called Dennis Creevey.  
"Yes?" answered Harry, as he came nearer to Dennis.  
"I was wondering if you could help me with our homework," squeaked Dennis, "I didn't understand this part."  
Dennis unfolded the piece of parchment, and revealed the question to Harry.

3- what are the five major causes that lead to a Tawkus's death?  
Harry read the question several times before he realized what it meant.

"Oh, it means what five things could a wizard do to finish off a Tawkus," replied Harry, uncertain that Dennis understood him.  
"I don't get it," mumbled Dennis.  
"I mentioned it in class, Dennis. Where were you?"  
"I was handing out last class's quiz while you were talking, and I find it hard to do two things at a time," spewed Dennis.  
"Oh, I see now. Well, I think they're mentioned somewhere on page 243," pointed out Harry.  
Dennis beamed at him.  
"Thanks sir—I mean Harry,"

"This boy is one of a kind," hurled Ron, "he keeps asking questions about his studies. Wish I had this in my veins."  
"Right, all we do is come up with answers and land ourselves in detentions—that means you only," acknowledged Harry, happy that he's a teacher.  
Ron frowned at Harry, very jealous, while Hermione laughed at the pair of them.  
"I'm going to bed," mentioned Ron, and off he went.  
Harry stared at him, hardly believing Ron's jealousy.  
"Don't worry, he's been like this before," claimed Hermione. "When you were selected as Hogwarts' second champion, he's been worse than he is now."  
Harry nodded. He remembered how he had a row with Ron due to being Hogwarts' second champion in fourth year. It was really frustrating.

For half an hour, Hermione was reading her Arithmancy book. She has read ninety-nine pages so far.  
"Don't you ever get bored of reading?" asked Harry.  
"Yes I do," which came as a shock to Harry. "I don't enjoy reading things that don't make sense, and have no use in the real life."  
"You mean the sort of thing Umbridge taught us last year?" suggested Harry.  
"Exactly," responded Hermione, "Arithmancy here, on the other hand, has great uses and is sensible."

Just seconds later, Harry sensed something cold pass by. He opened his eyes, as wide as they can be, and looked over Hermione's shoulder. He had a terrible feeling that something he dreaded was present, here in the common room. He got up from his seat, and meandered around the chairs and fireplace. Hermione was noticing his strange behavior.  
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione curiously, looking at whatever Harry looked at.  
"I just felt…" began Harry, and then he saw it. The black shadow was back, and it seemed stuck to the ceiling. Amazingly, it began moving forward, like crawling upside-down. There was a tail of smoke forming at the rear side. And right in the middle, was an animal shaped stomach. Over by the front formed the unmistaken head of a wolf. Harry discerned the crooked nose, and he saw some black teeth sticking out of the sides of the mouth. There was also a totally black eye staring at him from the side, and it gave him a wink.  
Harry's mouth was wide open, and his eyes got a wild look. He watched the black shadow, which was invisible to everybody else but him, move away.  
"What is it Harry?" asked Hermione again, closing her Arithmancy book.  
"Remember the black shadow I told you about?" asked Harry. "It's back."  
Hermione got a look of fright on her face.  
"What does it want from you?"  
"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out," prattled Harry, and with that he headed to the door.  
"Wait," said Hermione, grabbing his fist, "I'm coming with you."  
"No Hermione, it might be dangerous," denied Harry.  
"Harry, you can't go alone!" cried Hermione.  
"What if something bad happens to you?" asked Harry.  
"And what if something bad happens to you?" replied Hermione with a question.  
Harry was too afraid to risk the chance of loosing Hermione.  
"Allright," agreed Harry, "but you'd better stay close."  
Hermione nodded.  
They just reached the door, when Harry remembered something significant.  
"Wait here, I'll get the Marauder's Map," whinnied Harry, and he dashed away.  
Into his dormitory, he stepped. Ron's snores were very loud and annoying. Harry quickly took the brilliant Marauder's Map out of his schoolbag, which was perfectly concealed and hidden from eyes.  
"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good!" muttered Harry.  
Momentarily, tiny dots of ink appeared on the old piece of parchment. Harry saw a dot labeled "Professor Snape" moving around the school grounds, which made Harry relieved. He didn't want Snape in perfect eye and earshot, nor did he desire trouble with him.  
Harry intended to get up, but something caught his attention. It was gleaming, and shining bright yellow. The source of light came from his trunk. Harry wondered what it was. Slowly and cautiously, he opened his school trunk. The light was so bright that he was squinting at it. Then, he realized what it was. It was the sword that Professor Lupin gave him last summer. He never actually held it with him wherever he went, but now, something told him that it would be wise to carry it along. After that, another thing flowed in his mind. He remembered Professor Lupin telling him that the sword will glow yellow whenever danger was close. Harry thought the sword must've glowed a dozen times this year, when he never realized it. Also, part of Professor Lupin's advice, was that the sword can be used to cut the neck of the enemy. He said that one good stroke would do the trick. In addition to that, he reminded Harry that it was important of him to hit with strong emotions and feelings; otherwise, the enemy shall not die. It was a load of instructions that Harry had to memorize and apply when facing danger that awaits him. Carefully, Harry stretched out his hand to grab the sword. It was as light as a feather, but sharp like a basilisk's fang. Hastily, he stuck the sword in his jeans, and his wand on the other side. Meanwhile, he folded the Marauder's Map, and placed it in his pocket.

Down the stairs he came, and to the door he headed. Waiting for him was Hermione.  
"What were you doing up there?" asked Hermione, who thought Harry had gone for ages.  
"I was careful not to wake Ron," began Harry, "and then I took the Marauder's Map, and started its functioning."  
"That could've taken seconds though," gurgled Hermione, stepping out of the door.  
"I know," continued Harry, shutting the door behind him, "but then I was attracted to this."  
He drew out his sword, which stopped glowing.  
"Wow! Professor Lupin was right, you're filled with surprises," whispered Hermione.  
"Whatever you say," mouthed Harry. "Now, stay close to me, and don't you wander along the corridors."  
Hermione nodded, and the two began walking.  
For several minutes, Harry and Hermione were following the thick purple line drawn on the red carpet, which lead to more staircases. Every now and then, Harry looked at the Marauder's Map, to avoid bumping into a teacher, or worse, Mr. Filch. His sword didn't glow for a while, but then it did. Automatically, the sword pointed west. Harry didn't know that the sword could act like a compass.  
"Why is it pointing west?" asked Hermione curiously.  
"Perhaps it means the danger is coming from that side," suggested Harry, and the two continued walking.  
The sword was leading them downstairs.  
Hermione heard a noise.  
"What was that?" she asked nervously, and she looked around her.  
"Probably an owl's hoot," replied Harry. Hermione was holding his arm tightly now, and she was hidden behind his back.

On and on they went, until at last, the light from the sword subsided, and faded away. Harry and Hermione found themselves standing in front of a familiar portrait. It had a basket of fruits painted on it, and between the fruits, was a pear. Now, they both understood that they were just outside the kitchens.  
Hermione quickly touched the pear, and tickled it. These were Fred and George's instructions to get into the kitchens, often for nicking food.  
Out came a doorknob, and Harry pulled it down. He pushed the door open, and the two of them were both inside the kitchens. This time, they were as dark as pitch night. No source of light was available.  
"Lumos!" muttered Hermione, and she lit her wand.  
Harry's sword suddenly turned his hand east, and glowed yellow again. Through the darkness, which was dimly lit by Harry's sword and Hermione's wand, they meandered. The sword kept on changing its direction, and Harry obediently turned. Hermione had a terrible feeling that something was crawling behind her; it was on the ground. Scared, as she was, she pointed her wand behind her, and was surprised to see what she saw. Crookshanks, which happened to be Hermione's ginger cat, was strolling right behind her.  
"He must've followed my scent when we left," Hermione explained to Harry, and she carried him up.

For what seemed like ages, the two kept circling around the big kitchens. Neither Harry's sword, nor Hermione's lit wand pointed out something nasty. Until at last, Harry was shivering. He felt the tense cold come again. Hermione stopped behind him.  
"What is it?" whispered Hermione, pointing her wand over Harry's shoulder.  
"It's…. here, the black shadow," replied Harry weakly.  
Then, the mysterious black shadow came into view. Harry's sword was flickering now, and then a beam of green light shone from the tip of the sword, pointing at the black shadow, which was perfectly outlined in front of the white wall.  
Harry and Hermione were shocked to see the gruesome shadow hovering above them. It was as Harry saw it in the common room. The black shadow was shaped like a cunning wolf. It had a long nose, and terribly looking uneven teeth stuck out from the side. The tail of smoke was actually figured like a wolf's tail; it was fluffy. The eyes were wide open, and some yellowish color appeared in them.   
Hastily, the shadow flew downwards toward Harry and Hermione. Hermione pointed her wand directly at the coming shadow, and Harry stuck his left hand in his jeans incase he needed his wand.


	28. The Wolf of the Eighth Floor

28 (The Wolf of the Eighth Floor)

For the two's surprise, the foul looking wolf meant them no harm.  
"I am the traveling shadow of the wolf of the eighth floor," declared the wolf grimly. His voice echoed all over the kitchens.  
Harry and Hermione could've sworn that they didn't understand what he meant.  
"What…what exactly are you?" asked Hermione, trembling, from behind Harry's head.  
"I told you already," replied the shadow angrily, "I am the traveling shadow of the wolf of the eighth floor. You may not know what I mean, but soon you'll find out."  
Harry stared at the shadow, which seemed closer to him than ever before. He had a tight grip on his wand.  
"You may decide to cast a spell on me, Mr. Potter," began the shadow, "but I tell you not to do so, for I am not affected by spells, enchantments, and charms."  
That made Harry even more worried about his situation. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and Hermione was clutching him tightly, which made him safe.  
"Who is the wolf of the eighth floor if you don't mind me asking?" queried Harry, afraid that the shadow might attack them or something.  
However, the shadow remained silent for a moment, and then got a wicked grin on his face.  
"He's the last creature that He Who Must Not Be Named selected to be a follower," explained the shadow, his looks absolutely focused on Harry and Hermione.  
"When did he select him?" squeaked Hermione, still frightened.  
"Last year, if I'm not mistaken. The Boy Who Lived once again messed things up for the Dark Lord. I believe they say a battle was carried out in the Department of Mysteries."  
Harry nodded his head.  
"Well, after departure, the Dark Lord had no other place to go to; he knew that his life was coming to an end. He knew that soon it'll be all over," growled the shadow.  
"Where did he take refuge in?" asked Harry, wondering if the shadow was setting a plan to trick them.  
The wolf had yet another grin on his face, as his eyes narrowed.  
"Good point, Mr. Potter," pointed out the shadow, "his most faithful Death Eater, by the name of Peter Pettigrew, found him an abandoned place that no human or bird lived in. That Death Eater used to live there in his youth, for he had never went to any kind of school, until he reached adulthood, and the Dark Lord took over his mind. For as many as months now, the Dark Lord has been living in Dark Valley."

Hermione's jaw dropped; she remembered the attack of the crows, several months ago. The crow that increased in size and strangely talked to them informed them that those crows were servants of Lord Voldemort, and they came from Dark Valley.  
"Then again, the Dark Lord had no plans yet to carry out," spoke the shadow truthfully, "but then, he noticed a grey wolf that climbed down and up the valley almost daily. Little did the wolf know what the Dark Lord had in mind. After days of thinking, the Dark Lord summoned the wolf, and planted hatred and evil in his soul. He used all the dark magic he ever knew. This leads back to the wolf of the eighth floor."  
Harry was calmer now than at the beginning, and Hermione loosened her grip on his jacket.  
"I'm telling you know, that I'm peaceful and wish you no harm at all. Although the wolf himself is evil, I, the shadow, am the opposite. You see, there's something the Dark Lord didn't pay attention to. When he turned the friendly wolf into an evil servant, his soul got out. And I claim that I am that soul. I don't know why, but this is what happened. Our minds seemed to be thinking in the exact opposite way. The wolf is trying to hurt you, Mr. Potter. On the other hand, I am here to protect you,"  
Harry didn't quite understand the wolf's said statement. Hermione was puzzled too. How can a soul be exactly opposite from its own body?  
"I came here to warn you," spoke the wolf, his voice rising in pitch, "beware the wolf of the eighth floor, for he awaits your arrival as the fifth month of the year dies, and the sixth month is born."  
"And where is that wolf living?" asked Harry, perplexed. The wolf's speaking seemed like riddles.  
"You know where he lives. I repeat, he's called the wolf of the eighth floor," repeated the shadow grimly.  
It was as though had jus realized it. Of course, the evil wolf was living here at Hogwarts, on the eighth floor!  
"Impossible!" screamed Harry in disbelief. "It can't be!"  
"Whatever you say, Mr. Potter. It is true. Without anybody's notice, the wolf came all the way from Dark Valley, to reach this huge castle. He's currently lying motionlessly on the wooden floor of an empty room on the eighth floor. No one has ever visited that room, not since old Professor Benjamin Ladox used to hide in it from the caretaker," and he let out a loud laugh.  
Still, Harry didn't understand the purpose of the wolf of the eighth floor being asleep.  
"Why is he motionless? Shouldn't he be spreading evil and nasty deeds between everybody?" asked Hermione, anxious to get an immediate answer.  
"My dear girl," snarled the shadow, "he lies without moving for months more. Until the dawn of the sixth month, specifically on the eighth day of it, he's practically dead still. After that, goodness knows what terrible things he shall do."  
The sound of "terrible" didn't seem quite satisfying, and it raised Harry's temper and sense of loss above normal.  
"Terrible? What will he do?" asked Harry impatiently.  
"His howling will freeze the body, his laughs will summon the souls to him. His evil and nastiness are far beyond any evil wizard has known," claimed the shadow.  
Harry's mind was now full. What seemed like riddles confused him. He was lost in thoughts of the future. Why? Why has Voldemort been this cruel for a century? Why does he have to be wicked, and rule the magical world? Why does he have to use innocent creatures as his faithful servants?   
"Now that I have warned you, I must leave," prattled the shadow, "and may the sword of Anystal be at your service." And with that, the shadow flew away hastily.  
"Wait, what if…" began Harry desperately, but no answer was revealed from the shadow. It took him about a fraction of a second to disappear from sight. Harry and Hermione were left alone in the kitchens, illuminated by Hermione's wand, and Harry's sword, which was beginning to wane.   
"This is the sword of Anystal?" shrieked Hermione.  
"What?" asked Harry, "this?" and he pointed at the sword Professor Lupin gave him.  
"Yes," answered Hermione, "this is a legend. Didn't you know?"  
Harry shook his head, wondering if the name Anystal ever was mentioned in the books he's read.  
"This sword was manufactured first in the mid seventeenth century. It was designed to fight the forces of evil. It worked as a compass, to point out the direction of the coming evil. It also glowed yellow whenever danger was near. Anystal was buried here at Hogwarts ages and ages ago. I don't know how Professor Lupin ever managed to get hold of it, but I'm telling you…this could be the second useful weapon after a wand. It was also named Anystal after its master, Ned Anystal," explained Hermione.  
"What good can it do? Lupin told me that one good stroke would cut the neck of the enemy, but I also have to hit with intense feelings," conversed Harry, grabbing Hermione's hand carefully, and then lighting his wand to find a path that would lead to the exit.  
"It can do loads of stuff," whispered Hermione, "it can be used to kill enemies, to slay the most vicious dragons on land, to point you north when you're lost, to glow in the darkness; it can be used as a shield that protects you from stunning spells, and much more, Harry."  
"I believe you," muttered Harry quickly. Hermione knew that he just said that to end the conversation.

A few minutes later, the two left the great kitchens of Hogwarts, and made sure the door was locked behind them.  
"Nox!" said Harry and Hermione, watching their wands' light vanish.

No one was wandering along the corridors; practically everyone was asleep in their dormitories. The staff was probably just finishing off their lesson plans, and Mr. Filch could be stroking Mrs. Norris's head.  
At last, the portrait of the Fat Lady stood before them.  
"Now where have you too been at this time of night?" asked the Fat Lady, rather curious about what was going on.  
"Never you mind," replied Hermione, sounding rude, "Pineapple pudding!"  
At once, the door sprang open, and the Fat Lady's face carried a disapproving smirk.  
The common room was perfectly empty by now. Some rolls of parchment were left on the wooden table; they happened to be Dennis Creevey's instructions of how to be the organizing worker of the Study Society. The fire was still glowing orange and bright yellow, and yet no one asked its warmth.  
"Well, it's good to be back from the kitchens," murmured Harry, relieved.  
"Yes," agreed Hermione, still looking scared, "those warnings have practically driven me mad."  
By now, Harry's legs were stiff of walking and meandering through the kitchens, and his hands felt numb. What he needed was a five to six hour sleep that would clear his mind of all thoughts. Harry definitely needed a Pensieve.

"Goodnight," yawned Hermione, as she waved goodbye to Harry.  
"Night," he replied, shutting the door behind him.  
Into his dormitory he stepped. Ron seemed far away in dreams, for he was surely sleeping deeply. Dean and Seamus weren't snoring, to Harry's relief; however, they kept rolling on their beds, which made obnoxious and annoying noises. Neville's snoring was as usual, loud as a trumpet.  
Harry fell on his bed; he didn't even care to pull on the blanket. He laid his glasses on the table beside him, and stared at the window. The first thing that he saw was his owl, Hedwig, peacefully sleeping. Second, he looked at the dark and starry sky, wondering what would happen tomorrow.

For hours, which seemed like days, Harry didn't close an eye. He kept thinking unceasingly about the wolf of the eighth floor. How was he going to defeat him in the end, if his cruelty was beyond imaginable? And how was the sword of Anystal going to be of any use? What would he do to save victims, who will have their bodies frozen, and their souls gone? These questions were tiring him, and he was getting weary from wonders and thoughts. Truly, as Dumbledore has mentioned before, a Pensieve can be of great use, if you feel that your mind is overloaded with information. Harry gave up; he knew that it was now less likely of him to sleep. Dawn was approaching, and he had to prepare for another day.

Suddenly, a familiar sound broke the silence of the common room. It was more like a cry…a cry of sadness and grief. Harry thought he was imagining it for a while, but then he heard it more carefully. The cry was coming from downstairs, and it was painful to hear. Intrigued, Harry put on is glasses, and got out of bed. Slowly, he walked, vigilant to make no noise, across his dormitory, and reached the door. Quietly, without a crack, the door was opened.  
Harry's eyes were still when he saw the source of the cry…  
It was Hermione! She was wearing a navy blue skirt, and a white long sleeved shirt. She had her head buried between her knees, and he could see tear stains on her sleeve. She was totally in grief, and seemed to despair something.

"Hermione?" began Harry calmly. "What's wrong?"  
"Oh, Harry," mumbled Hermione, rubbing off a tear, "I…I'm sorry that I…woke you up."  
"Never mind that," talked Harry, sitting on the armchair, "why are you crying?"  
Hermione slowly looked at the ground, and then back again at Harry.  
"Can't you grasp it?"  
"What?" asked Harry, confused.  
"This war has to come to an end," cried Hermione, "I can't stand this…this evil and madness…Professor Dumbledore fears things may go wrong at school, and that's why he postponed the Hogsmeade trip…that…that shadow has come to warn us of this…mysterious wolf, living on the eighth floor…and soon, Voldemort's Death Eaters will arrive and start chaos…" and at that moment, she burst into heavy tears. Not only she meant what she said, but actually felt it deeply in her heart.  
Harry got up from the armchair, and sat beside Hermione.  
"Honestly, Hermione," whispered Harry, "what's your point?"  
Hermione, who had been deep in tears looked at him in silence for a few moments.  
"Harry…I'm…I'm scared," admitted Hermione uneasily, "I'm afraid of this whole matter that's threatening what was once good and peaceful."  
Here's where Harry began paying closer attention to the words that came out of her mouth.  
"Harry," trembled Hermione, "you know what…Voldemort…loathes most…Muggleborns…and…and I'm one of them."  
For some moments, Harry focused on what she was saying. Apparently, he had not received the main message yet.  
"Well…" began Hermione, sobbing in tears, "if he's after Muggleborns…then I shall be the…the…first to be caught. More than a point, I don't want to have a short life. However, I want to live for long ages, to see the new generations of wizard kind. And…I wouldn't fancy losing you…. or Ron…or Ginny…or all the others…. Harry, a friend…a true friend is precious, and…and…this friend had better be not gone."

At this phase, Hermione was swallowing a lump in her throat. The feelings were too intense for her, and she couldn't handle them anymore.

Harry finally realized what she was trying to say. He felt remorse for not understanding his best friend from the very first moment of a conversation. He felt something arise in him. It was those feelings again…the evolved feelings of care, friendship, and possibly…. love. Harry, now, wanted to do the most soothing thing that would bring her comfort and relief. Slowly, his arm found its way around Hermione's shoulders.  
Hermione, who had her face between her palms, stopped crying momentarily. Her hand was soaked with tears, and so was her sleeve. She slowly lifted her head, and turned it sideways, facing Harry. A fervent look of appreciation and warm love appeared on his face. In addition to that, Hermione suddenly felt safe when the hand of her best friend was placed around her slump shoulders.  
"Hermione," began Harry, as if he was going to lecture her, "we've been through lots of dangers and adventures, and you see…we never lost against Voldemort and his followers. We always came out of whatever trouble we were involved in…. I suppose because of our skills, and a bit of good luck."  
"But…what if this time, we had no luck?" asked Hermione, still apprehensive.  
"If we had it five times, we'll have it this time," replied Harry, rubbing Hermione's right shoulder gently. "Well, I'm not positive, but I'm hoping it would happen again."  
Hermione nodded, her mouth only half an inch open.  
"Then again, I assure you that you don't need to worry about your safety…our safety in general…because we'll be around to look out for you Hermione, once you've truly lost hope and began to despair…everyone will be around to provide safety and vigilance…and if anyone failed to accomplish this goal…then…then I'll be there for you."  
Instantly, Hermione glanced at his beaming face and eyes. Never in her life, had she known so much care and responsibility…and sacrifice.  
"You're too valuable to lose, Hermione," murmured Harry quietly, "we couldn't afford to lose the cleverest witch in our year."  
Reluctantly, Hermione let out a silent laugh.  
After that, Harry's hand sensed a gentle touch. It was Hermione's hand, stroking his. Harry turned his head, to see his hand in the firm grip of Hermione's soft hand. It was coming now…he had to confess…he had to tell her, no matter what the price was…he couldn't hold it in his chest for any longer…he wanted to let it out, and he felt that this was the most suitable moment for him to do so.  
"Hermione?" spoke Harry.  
"Yes Harry?" she asked, her face covered with her hair; she moved it away to the sides afterwards.  
"I…" hesitated Harry, "I…I've been longing to tell you something…something highly significant and brilliant to me."  
Hermione had a feeling, that merely told her what was in his mind.  
"What is it?" she asked again, with the brightest smile showing on her fair face. Hermione moved closer to him at this very moment.  
"This is a bit difficult for me to say," confirmed Harry, "but I'll have to tell you anyway. Look, we've been…best friends…for five years, and this is the sixth year running. So…I…I thought it was time that friendship evolves and turns into something…. something even better and far too exhilarating…I mean, you've helped me loads of times…and I'll never be able to repay you…or even present you with the appropriate reward one could think of."  
"Your friendship and honesty are enough for me," whispered Hermione; her tears fell silently.  
"Anyway," mumbled Harry, catching onto his breath, "I just wanted to express my true feelings to you. Afterall, you've done things that no adult wizard or witch would've dared to do. So…I…I had this mad idea, about telling you something that could be a little…embarrassing and surprising."  
"What?" asked Hermione, impatiently.  
"Hermione," sighed Harry, "I…I…I"  
"Yes? Go on," whispered Hermione impatiently, encouraging him.  
Harry looked at her for a moment, and thought of how his next statement was going to affect his and her life, for it had a…heavy…meaning.  
"I…love you," and with that, he came to and end. Harry was absolutely glad that he finally got if off his chest, but still, he was worried about Hermione's reaction.  
He was watching his feet, speechless. What if she didn't want this from him?  
Slowly, Hermione, who thought of cheering and celebrating this occasion, held his left hand between both of her hands. At first, she was confused and very surprised of his confession. Then, she joyfully gazed dreamingly at his face.   
"Really?" she asked, feeling happy as another tear dropped from her watery eyes.  
"Yes…" replied Harry quickly, enjoying Hermione's soft hands tickling his rigid hands.  
"You do? You mean beyond friendship?"  
"Yes, Hermione," responded Harry, desperate to let out the words that have been trapped in a cage, "I've been wanting to tell you for so long. I could've hardly waited, but now you know…you know what you mean to me…for the past years, you've always been around me whenever I was off to adventures…and Ron gave support too…but you, you were the one who came with resolutions…you were the one witch who sacrificed herself for peace and good…you gave us clues to whatever wonders and questions we had in mind. And in third year, the most memorable year to me, you showed bravery and courage far more than I ever observed it distinctly in you… you had the Time Turner, and you helped me get back in time to save a beloved guide and friend, who's now at Heaven's doors…and you helped me rescue an innocent Hippogriff, to bring joy to Hagrid…and when the Dementors came around, I had no other choice but to perform the Patronus charm…I had to save you Hermione… I couldn't have let you go that easily…and when you flew with me on Buckbeak to save Sirius…it was the point where I felt closest to you than ever… you held my waist so tight, and you didn't let go... it was as if you and I were one… I just…"  
"That's enough," interrupted Hermione, smiling at him. "Harry, thanks for everything you did. Thanks for saving the Philosopher's Stone…thank you for getting rid of the school's fear in second year…thanks for saving an innocent man, and for saving an innocent magical creature who meant no harm…thanks for risking your life through a dangerous tournament…thanks for everything." Hot warm tears fell like a waterfall from her eyes. 

Suddenly, she burst into weeping, and flung herself at Harry. She hugged him tightly, and rested her chin on his shoulder. Harry himself felt the same exact way. The romantic moments have revealed themselves at last.  
Then, Hermione lifted her chin from Harry's shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes…into the clear mirror that reflected bravery, courage, peace, and love. It was probably her turn now.  
"Harry, forgive me for saying this so lately. I was just waiting for the right moment. I love you too!" whispered Hermione, crying.  
"I… don't believe this," commented Harry, his eyes shiny "you loved me? For all this time, you never dared to tell me?"  
"Why should I be so hasty? Besides... I was worried,"  
"But…I thought you fancied Krum,"  
"And I thought you fancied Cho,"  
By that, Harry was silenced. He felt that Hermione practically sitting on his lap…so close that their noses almost touched.  
"Hermione," said Harry, wrapping his hands gently around her tender neck, "I love you."  
Hermione looked at him, exploding with happiness.  
"I love you too," she whispered.  
Then…something unusual to the two of them happened. Actually, it happened automatically, and the two had no other choice. The moment has come at last…the love was confessed, the appreciation was informed, and the romance was present.  
Hermione slowly moved forwards, her tears falling on Harry's t-shirt. She closed her eyes, and so did he.  
At last, it seemed as if the moon and the sun met, after a long loss and separation. Hermione's lips were pressing gently on Harry's, and he kissed her back. For so long, Harry wished to do this, and now his dream has come true. The wonderful sensation took the two to dream world. The beautiful taste of Hermione's soft lips was spreading on Harry's, which he enjoyed very much. Hermione thought of his lips as bliss that she never had in life.

Eventually, the lips let go of each other, not for the last time, as Harry thought.  
Harry and Hermione were breathing intensely, after such a brilliant experience. Harry's eyes weren't blinking, for they have been gazing at Hermione's.  
"That was," began Harry, "amazing!"  
"I know," nodded Hermione, "it was wonderful."  
"Have you ever had the nerve to do such thing?" asked Harry, wondering if Hermione was going to answer.  
"No," replied Hermione, who was now sitting on Harry's lap, "never in life."  
"Hermione," yelped Harry, "I love you…I always have, and forever I will."  
She smiled at him.  
"And so shall I," she assured him that he was a precious diamond to loose.  
For the mean time, Hermione had thrown herself on him again, and hugged him for the last time for that night. Harry stroked her hair, and softly kissed her neck.  
For half an hour, they sat there on the chair. Until at last, Harry felt that Hermione grew drowsy, and dozed off. Gladly, Harry placed his hands underneath her neck and legs, and stood up. Although she was a bit heavy, he was delighted to carry her to her bed.  
And carried her to her bed, he did.  
Cautiously, he pushed the girls' dormitory's door open with a soft kick from his left leg. He walked between the two beds, which were occupied by Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. Then, he saw the third bed in the center beside the window.  
Gently as he could, he put her on the bed, and covered her with the thick and warm blanket. Harry never wished to leave her, but he had to. For the last time that night, he planted a soft kiss on her cheek. He saw a smile on her face, and inferred that Hermione might've felt it, but was too tired to wake up.  
Out of the door he went, and headed to his own dormitory. Filled with happiness, joy, and relief, he crept into his bed. He crept into his untidy bed, and hastily covered himself with the blanket. Harry was so delighted that finally, he's been able to express the emotions that had been trapped for ages inside him. Yet, he thought it was so ironic. Love usually existed in a world of peace, not evil and cruelty. He didn't even take off his glasses to sleep. Then, he looked at his pet owl, Hedwig, who was hooting softly, with her head concealed behind her wings. He gave the starry sky one hopeful look, wondering if Sirius was up there by now. Harry wished Sirius could've seen this. He wanted him to be here for guidance and warning. However, what happened had happened, and Sirius was lost forever. Harry had thought he'd seen a glimpse of light, far away on the horizon. Dawn was approaching, and he hasn't slept all night. At last, a dreamy sensation took over, and into the shadows he sank.


	29. Gloomy Bubble Potion and Sorrowtuckles

29 (The Gloomy Bubble Potion and Sorrowtuckles)

The rays of sunlight lighted the floor, and soon reached Harry's four-poster bed. Still sleepy, Harry woke up from his wonderful and peaceful sleep. Harry constantly kept thinking about how he and Hermione had fallen in love. It was unbelievable, and so mighty. For ages, Harry longed to tell Hermione how much she meant to him, but anyway…he feared things might go wrong. And then, he was surprised himself to see her reaction. He had never expected her to be thrilled and happy. He had thought that she might hate him for the rest of his life. But then, something came to his mind. Why would Hermione hate him? They've been best friends for five years, and this was the sixth year running. They both helped each other in adventures and dangerous issues. Thus, it didn't make sense if she hadn't at least liked him. In fact, she would've always appreciated his help, and she would've definitely liked him for all this time. The only problem was that they didn't have the guts to confess their emotions. Eventually, it was all revealed and pointed out last night. 

Slowly, Harry lifted the blanket, and put his numb legs on the floor. He was staggering for some moments, and held on to his bed, for he didn't fell any strength in his feet. In the end, he managed to walk a few steps, and reach the door.

The common room was deserted at this point of time, and everything was neat. Probably, the house-elves have cleaned it while Harry was sleeping. The fire was out, and the sofas were neatly arranged with the several pillows on them.  
Quietly, Harry sat on the armchair. It was the same armchair he and Hermione had sat on last night. He felt the scent of Hermione's presence still on her spot. He definitely remembered the fair smell of her from last night. Also, Harry thought he'd seen something like a tearstain outlined on the armchair. A smile came to his face, and was lightened by the sunrays that reached through the curtains. The memory came by, and he was living it again. Hermione's face was covered with salty tears, and her hair was covering it. Then, Harry was informing her about his love to her. She was smiling, and nearing him. There noses almost touched, and then she confessed her love too. The romantic moment was back again, and their lips were hanging on to each other. The fast and heavy breathing came next. After that, Harry felt weight on his body. It was Hermione, tightly hugging him and resting her chin on his right shoulder. Harry now felt a soft fleeting breeze brushing his hair.   
Suddenly, a lovely soft sound broke the silence surrounding Harry. It brought him back to reality.  
"Harry?" it was the voice of Hermione, who appeared to have just woken up.  
Quickly, Harry shifted his head, turned around, to see Hermione, resting her arms on the rail.  
"Good morning," said Harry slowly, smiling fervently at her. Her face seemed so bright, and filled with love.  
"I thought I'd heard some footsteps going outside the dormitory and heading downstairs," commented Hermione humorously, walking down the stairs.  
She joined him on the armchair, and straight away sat on his laps. She shot him a look of love in his eyes, and he returned the look to her.  
"Did you sleep last night?" asked Harry, stroking her cheek.  
"Not at all," replied Hermione, vaguely, "I kept thinking about the white knight that at last found me lost along the riverbank, and entered through the gates of my heart."  
Harry's teeth showed as his smile widened; he pulled her closer to his face.  
"Hmmm," mumbled Harry, "and who could that be?"  
Hermione gazed dreamily at him.  
"Who else could it be? Other than you?" responded Hermione.  
As quick as thunder, she lowered her face to be on the level of Harry's chin. Impatiently, she kissed him twice, and so did he.  
"Can you just believe this? True love?" asked Harry repeatedly.  
"It's amazing to think about," spoke Hermione, "how destiny decided that we were meant to be…together."  
Harry kept watching her dreamily.  
"I know," he commented, "and how sweet it is, right?"  
Without any more response, Hermione hugged him so tightly, that he almost lost his breath.  
Harry held on tightly to her; he felt as if they were one. Hermione was like the only heart in him, and that heart was the source of living to Harry.  
"Harry?"  
"Yes Hermione," replied Harry quickly, shooting her a look of admiration.  
"I wondered," she began, "what would you want to do for Valentine's Day?"  
This question confused him a bit. He remembered that only last year, he accompanied Cho Chang, his ex-girlfriend, to a small teashop. Of course, everyone knew how it became to be a disaster in the end, when Harry mentioned the subject of Hermione. Cho Chang was jealous, and thought of Harry loving Hermione more than her. Afterall, he had the right to. Why wouldn't he love his best friend?  
"Well," hesitated Harry, "I don't know exactly, but we could go Fred and George's place for fun."  
Hermione raised her eyebrows, and then smiled at him.  
"Imagine them turning a red heart into a cockroach or something," she commented, which made both of them laugh. Indeed, Fred and George, the two joking geniuses, could've turned anything before their eyes into a joking business.

Half an hour later, Harry and Hermione wore their school uniforms, and gathered their books and parchments. Harry had his wand sticking out of his pocket. In addition, now that he has seen, or at least known, what the wolf of the eighth floor is capable of doing; he grabbed the sword of Anystal and hid it in his schoolbag. Of course, he placed it carefully so that it won't tear the bag apart, although he can fix it with simply saying "Reparo!"

"Good mo---mo---ring," yawned Ron, as he swept by Harry and Hermione.  
"Good morning," responded Harry, "had a nice sleep?"  
"Yeah, right," replied Ron sarcastically, approaching the bathroom, "with Neville's pig-like snoring, no one could rest their heads on a pillow."  
As he went into the bathroom, something came to his mind.  
"Oh, Harry," spoke Ron urgently.  
Harry turned to face him.  
"Professor McGonagall told me to let you know that she wants that test of yours for the seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws canceled, because they've already got a Potions test."

Harry thought for a moment about what Ron has just said, and then remembered how he had planned to give the students a test on Monday, which happened to be today.  
"Allright Ron," said Harry, straightening his glasses, "I shall have a word with her and ask about the shift in schedule."  
"Suit yourself," muttered Ron, and he locked the door behind him.

"Ready for another day?" asked Hermione, smiling fervently at Harry.  
"Absolutely ready, that's if you are," replied Harry, walking down the stairs.  
Hermione had followed him, and along came Crookshanks, who happened to be sleeping under the armchair last night.  
"He never stops chasing you, does he?" asked Harry, grinning at Crookshanks.  
"No, he's got used to me," replied Hermione, "I should not let him wander around wherever I go, or he might as well cause chaos."  
"Good idea," commented Harry humorously.  
Finally, Harry and Hermione got out of the common room, heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione felt slight remorse for letting Crookshanks behind. Harry laughed when he heard him meow angrily from behind the door. Truly, Hermione has seldom let Crookshanks alone; nevertheless, she had to leave him inside, where he is protected.

While Harry was walking, he ran into Nearly Headless Nick. The Gryffindor ghost asked Harry if he could come and attend his friend's death day party. Of course, Harry remembered how it was when he attended Nick's death day party. It was a terrible mess. No need to mention how it was with Peeves around…   
As Harry walked, something very significant came to his mind.   
"Hermione?" began Harry, gazing at her.  
"Yes Harry?"  
"I was wondering," spoke Harry earnestly, "now that you've claimed that…that you love me, and I love you…I wondered…could…could you be…"  
"Cat got your tongue?" asked Hermione, giggling.  
"Well, um…"  
"Why are you so shy?"  
"I…could you be my…girlfriend?" finally, Harry let it out.  
Hermione stopped in her spot, and gazed dreamingly at him.  
"Gladly," answered Hermione, and she caressed his cheek.  
Harry felt himself burning with happiness from inside, and then the two continued their walk to the Great Hall.

As always, the Great Hall was crammed with students, here and there. The Slytherins were just arriving, accompanied of course by slimy Draco Malfoy. Over by the Hufflepuff table, sixth and seventh years were babbling about the horrible Transfiguration test they had last Wednesday. It freaked them out, for they didn't have the time to study a chart that contained forty seven figures. The chart was very intricate indeed. First, it had an animal on the left box. Next to it was its magical abilities. After that, come their weaknesses. Finally, the last box on the right explained how they are properly transfigured. Professor McGonagall was always known to be strict, but not this harsh.  
Harry and Hermione found themselves two seats next to Dean, Parvati, and Lavender Brown. Owls were arriving now, and dozens of copies of the Daily Prophet were landing into each and every student's hand. Harry spotted Hedwig entering through a high window, and then she flew downwards, directly heading to him. Down came the Daily Prophet, and it made a smudge on Harry's shirt, for it landed on top of the tomato sauce.  
"Here," began Hermione, "let me help."  
She took her wand out of her pocket, and muttered "_Scourgify_"   
Instantly, the stain on Harry's shirt vanished, and the shirt was as good as new.  
"Thank you, Hermione," complimented Harry, and he held her hand between his. But Hermione had realized that they haven't officially declared their love, and it would be wise to not do anything suspicious in public.  
"No Harry," whispered Hermione, as Harry came close to kiss her.  
Harry backed away instinctively, following Hermione's desire.  
Finally, Ron arrived at the Gryffindor table, all untidy and still sleepy.  
"I thought you'd never come," commented Hermione sarcastically.   
"Hahaha," muttered Ron, slightly annoyed.  
Harry had just remembered something Ron had told him earlier on.  
"I'd better head of to McGonagall; I need to talk to her about the test," claimed Harry quickly, and in a flash of seconds, he was out of his seat.  
Hastily, Harry walked towards the teachers' table in the front, owing the need to discuss the test issue with the head of his house.  
Meanwhile, Ron started eating, fulfilling the desire of his appetite.  
Accidentally, he choked on a chunk of bread. He was pleading for some water.  
"Here," Hermione presented him with the nearest glass of water on the table. Ron nearly spilled the water on his clothes, for he had his mouth wide open.  
"Thanks," muttered Ron heavily, catching the breath of air. There were some cool wet drops of water on his trousers.  
"I'm always a big ball of mess," admitted Ron, looking bothered. He instantly got his wand out and cleaned himself up.  
"You could've just dried it up with a handkerchief," mouthed Hermione, giggling.  
Ron glanced at her for a moment, a grin appearing on his face. Then, something came to mind.  
"By the way," began Ron, looking mysterious, "I wanted to ask you something, Hermione."  
She didn't completely understand what he meant; nevertheless, she accepted it.  
"Ask away," and she spread some jam over her toast.  
"Is something…. going between you and…and Harry?" asked Ron slowly, to make the question interesting.  
At once, Hermione stopped spreading the jam, and looked at him. She didn't have the slightest clue that Ron knew something strange was going on between her and Harry.  
"No," lied Hermione, reluctantly, "why would…you ask such thing?"  
"Are you sure?" asked Ron again.  
"Yes I am; I'm not dumb, you know," shrieked Hermione, and trembled.  
Ron raised his eyebrows, a sort of a wicked grin emerging from his face.  
"I know something is going on," declared Ron truthfully, "otherwise, why would Harry mention you unceasingly in conversations? And why did he have to accompany you on a walk in the night on the ice?"  
It seemed like a dozen of questions in one. At least, that's what Hermione thought. She spoke no more, and inferred that Ron must've definitely known something about her recent relationship. But how could it be? She was sure Harry hadn't told Ron anything about it.  
Hermione felt a bit nervous, now that one person, along with Harry, knows about her relationship. She wasn't positively sure, but her heart told her that Ron knew something.

"I thought she was going to say such thing," muttered Harry, as he sat down beside Hermione and Ron.  
"'Oo said wha'?" asked Ron, as a mouthful of jelly entered his mouth.  
"McGonagall," explained Harry, "she said that I was supposed to schedule the test on Thursday rather than Monday. I kept telling her that the whole staff agreed on having the students take the test on Monday, but no, she wouldn't consent. She thought of shifting the Potions test, which was originally planned to be handed out on Thursday, to Monday. I bet everyone will fail this test; Snape is getting nastier than ever, and we're half way through the year. Plus, Snape is sick today, and may he rot in his bed. So, now I'm supposed to watch over the students taking the test, which originally was my free time. And I thought of finishing up that essay for Binns. "  
Ron looked at Harry, still spitting out some jelly.  
"Yo' should've reporte' 'er," sputtered Ron.  
Hermione, who had been quiet for the last three minutes, had spoken again.  
"Ron, how foolish would you want Harry to be? Report a teacher who had practically raised us all? Snape is an exception, but not Professor McGonagall. She's head of our house, the Transfiguration teacher, and deputy headmistress!"  
Ron was startled by Hermione's reaction, and shot her looks of confusion and apology simultaneously.  
Harry's eyes averted from Hermione to the Daily Prophet that earlier on landed on tomato sauce and stained his clothes. He cleaned it himself with his wand, and then gazed at an article over by the upper left corner. There was a picture of a man, head hooded, face masked, and covered with a cloak. The figure was moving in the frame, and the man was apparently laughing wickedly. Then, Harry realized the title.  
"Hey, look at this!" prattled Harry, pointing to the article. Hermione and Ron scooted a bit on he bench, and glanced at the point where Harry's finger was pointing.  
"'Dolohov sighted at Hogsmeade!'" mouthed Hermione.  
" He's at Hogsmeade already?" shrieked Ron in disbelief. "When did he arrive? What's he doing there?"  
"Read to find out, Ron," advised Harry, who happened to be reading the seventh line in the article, so did Hermione. The trio's eyes were moving rapidly from left to right, and then from right to left. Each sentence heightened their anxiety.  
Soon, Harry, Hermione, and Ron heard shrieks emerging from every corner of the Great Hall. It appeared that every pupil was staring at the Daily Prophet. The Slytherins had smirks on their faces, and grins too. The Hufflepuffs were glancing at each other, perplexed. The Ravenclaws and the Gryffindors have almost gone mad. They were totally scared by that bit of news. Now that Dolohov, a faithful Death Eater, was present at Hogsmeade, soon, his gang will arrive as well. Only a while ago, it was reported in the Daily Prophet that they deftly escaped from Azkaban. Of course, it would've been wiser to let the dementors performs their kiss, for those Death Eaters were the foulest and most horrific murderers that existed to serve the Dark Lord. Alas, the Ministry of Magic wasn't ready yet. That may have been the reason they had an opportunity to escape Azkaban.  
"I bet you anything Dumbledore will postpone the trip to Hogsmeade to the end of the year, now!" yelled Ron, under the heavy shrieks and screaming in the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione had their fingers in their ears, but still, they were worried as much as the rest of the students.  
"Silence!" came the harsh old voice of Professor Dumbledore. He had his hands raised in the air, descending to resemble the subsiding of the loud noise.  
For a moment, Professor Dumbledore gazed at every shiny eye in the Great Hall. Then, with his wisdom, memory, and sympathy, he understood their feelings.  
"I know what has happened at our merry Hogsmeade," claimed Professor Dumbledore, "a Death Eater, by the surname of Dolohov, has appeared out of nowhere. Now, I also know the intense feelings hanging in the air around you, but I kindly ask you to calm down. Panicking will only heighten your anxiety. As I have said before, the next Hogsmeade trip has been postponed till February the fourteenth. But alas, I'm afraid I'll have to cancel all Hogsmeade trips for the next coming months. It's for your own safety."  
"What did I tell you?" whispered Ron quietly to Harry and Hermione.  
"It is not in my hands what the wickedness and evil in Lord Voldemort drive him to," began the headmaster, ignoring the students' usual winces at the sound of the name, " but I am definitely sure that someday, perhaps soon, he will fall again, and so will all the darkness, evil, and shadows in the present day. Yet, we mustn't underestimate him, for he has proven himself capable of conducting the most complex and intricate spells and curses wizard kind has ever known. Some of you may have seen it, witnessed it with their own eyes. His black heart knows no mercy, nor forgiveness. Whatever…whoever stands in his way of ultimate control on the wizard world, is killed. Our history has clearly witnessed his cruel actions for the past few years. For one, without any mercy, he murdered the beloved parents of the one and only Potter left alive."  
Every eye turned around to Harry, who began to look around nervously.  
"Although this brave boy's parents have fought him courageously," Professor Dumbledore went on, "they were eventually killed by his hands. What else could I say? He personally murdered a girl, who studied here at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, her big mouth and little brain drove her to the way of Voldemort. You see, he lured her into a circle. And then, when he completely had no use of her anymore, he eliminated her from existence. Only last year, one of his followers, had managed to kill an innocent soul, and by that I mean Sirius Black."  
There were shrieks and yelps coming out from every table. For so long, almost everyone thought Sirius Black was alive, hiding somewhere on Earth, escaping the greedy hands of the Ministry of Magic. His friend, who turned out to be nothing but a dirty traitor, Peter Pettigrew, deceived everyone in the wizard community. That event, where twelve muggles were killed, made everyone think the same way; Sirius Black was insane, and killed Peter Pettigrew.  
However, this piece of information that the headmaster just let slip has shocked them all.   
"Yes," continued the old man, "I know that many of you have thought that Sirius Black was hiding from the Ministry's hands. I could hold it no longer, so that's why truth was to be told. Sirius Black had escaped luckily from here, that very night three years ago. Along with him was an innocent magical creature, which instinctively attacked a victim when he offended it. I can't say who helped them out of here, because I'm sure that that would changer your way of thinking towards him, or rather them. I have no time now to explain the truth about Sirius Black, but he has, and will always be innocent. He was convicted for a crime he didn't commit. But it does no good to remember him now, for he's dead."  
Harry momentarily felt like crying, but Ron and Hermione patted him on either shoulders, soothingly.  
"And what about Cedric Diggory?" began Professor Dumbledore purposefully. "Have you forgotten that brave young man? Have you forgotten the way we were in grief, that last night in the year, two years ago? He was murdered by Lord Voldemort, too. Again, the majority of you don't know the truth about it, because you weren't in that maze, accompanying the four champions of the tournament. But here's the truth…Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, both Hogwarts champions, have been transported by a portkey to the old graveyard, in which Lord Voldemort's father was berried. As some of you might not have known, Lord Voldemort personally murdered his father, another muggle. He killed him because when he found out the true race of his wife, he was shocked. She turned out to be a witch, and for that, he left her. That's why the Dark Lord avenged his mother, and killed his own father. When Harry and Cedric arrived there, several followers, which are known as Death Eaters started arriving. The faithful Death Eater, Peter Pettigrew, prepared a potion that would relive Lord Voldemort, making him take physical form again. But first, without any hesitation, Lord Voldemort instructed one of his followers to kill Cedric, for he had no use. That's what truly happened. After the whole incident, luckily, are young Harry managed to come out of them maze, alive, but with the body of a friend., Cedric Diggory."  
Sighs came out of everywhere. Most of the Hufflepuffs had their jaws wide open, and their eyes bulged out. The Slytherins were glancing at each other, as if they didn't get the message. The Ravenclaws, including Cho Chang, had tears in their eyes. Clearly, they were the house that was deeply and emotionally affected. There were many fans of Cedric's in Ravenclaw. One of them happened to be his former girlfriend, Cho Chang. She did believe the story from Harry's point of view when he told her, but mentioning it again enhanced her worries and memories about him. One word of him, one memory…anything about him made her cry hot salty tears, filled with excruciating pain and agony.  
Harry was catching on to his breath. This reminded him of that very day, when he didn't know what went wrong that transported him to the graveyard. The memory was so horrific that he was shaking like mad. The same went with Hermione and Ron. They, too, were frightened to know the truth, directly told by Professor Dumbledore. The mood was so intense now in the Great Hall, and students were talking madly to each other.  
"I'm sorry that I caused you distress," apologized Professor Dumbledore sympathetically, "but you had to know the truth, the truth that…"  
"Headmaster, please," interrupted Professor Snape out of the edge of his mouth.  
The old man turned his head to him, purposefully.  
"What Severus?" asked Professor Dumbledore. "Should I speak no more?"  
Professor Snape's lips curled, and he was slightly embarrassed by the headmaster's determined reaction.  
"Should I perhaps keep on the students living in a world of chaos, confusion, and loss? They've got to know the truth, and accept it. It's better for them to know it and be vigilant, rather than wandering around with no clue about what's happening in this wizarding world," his voice seemed far more determined and demanding than ever.  
Professor Snape was silenced, and he was bashfully staring into his empty plate.  
"This may have scared you," mouthed Professor Dumbledore, "but it's only for your own good to know the truth. Again, I ask you all to calm down, and not worry about the issues of Hogsmeade. Goodness knows what will happen there, and we shall do something about it sooner or later."  
After that, without any other word, he sat down. His hands were hooked together, and his eyes were looking straightly at the table. Professor Dumbledore was no doubt thinking about something. Perhaps this time, neither his wisdom nor his determination helped him in figuring out a way that would resolve that problem.

"What should we do know?" asked Hermione nervously.  
Harry, who was momentarily speechless, spoke again.  
"We do nothing unless instructed by Dumbledore," suggested Harry, "otherwise we're venturing out into Hogsmeade, without any plans. First, we have to know Dolohov's powers and weaknesses, only then can we attack."  
"Right," agreed Ron, nodding his head.  
"But now there are no more Hogsmeade trips," added Hermione sadly, "and we'll never be able to visit Winky."  
Ron was a bit enraged by those words.  
"Is that stupid weirdo all you worry about, Hermione?"  
She looked him in the eye, burning from the inside.  
"That stupid weirdo happened to be abused by her master, another adult wizard, and her feelings were severely hurt!" twittered Hermione, her temper rising.  
"Well, I should've never agreed to go with you and Harry then!"  
"Ron, Hermione…please, for once, would you consent to stop arguing?" asked Harry desperately.  
"I'll stop talking if she does about that walking skeleton!" growled Ron.  
"And I'll stop arguing if he doesn't mind offending her rights!" roared Hermione.  
Harry shook his head, and then put it between his hands.  
"Honestly, you two," spoke Harry, "it would be much better if you stop this childish nonsense, and act more like adults."  
"Childish? Childish, Harry? We're talking about an elf's rights here!" snapped Hermione.  
Ron was still glaring at her, boiling hot.  
"Look, whatever you think Hermione, and you Ron," continued Harry, "if we keep on arguing about every single thing we've planned for, we'll never reach a fair decision. So what? There was a change in plans that caused us to stay home, but not visit Winky. What's the harm in that?"  
"I'll tell you Harry," wept Ron angrily, "it'll be bad because little miss know-it-all won't get the chance to hear that Winky's complaints about not treating her well at St. Mungo's!"  
Suddenly, without any warning, Hermione's palm flew in the air, and left a red mark on Ron's face. She slapped him! Ron was still there, embarrassed like never before. The sound was so loud that it attracted virtually every Gryffindor's attention. Harry froze in his seat. He's never seen Hermione get this angry before. Ron and Hermione usually argued many times about various subjects, but this?  
Poor Hermione got out of her seat, weeping, heading towards the gates.  
"Why can't you understand her, Ron?" asked Harry amicably. "Why do you treat her this way, when we both know that it's good to ease the pain of a house-elf? See how foolish you sometimes are? This is where it all leads; your best friend walked away."  
Ron was breathing quickly.  
"I can't believe she just did that," whispered Ron.

After that incident, Harry lost his appetite, and went to look for Hermione.

Quickly, Harry stepped out the castle, unobtrusively, and closed the gate behind him. Into the daylight he stepped. His head was turning to every angle. His legs carried him forwards, seeking Hermione.  
Then, he found her. She was sitting in the shade, under a lard oak tree. She bent her knees, which were surrounded by her hands. Her hair was dancing in the air, whenever a cool breeze crept by. She was looking at the lake, crying. 

"Hermione?"  
She looked up at him.  
Harry calmly sat down on the grass, beside the one he loved.  
"Why were you overreacting, Hermione? Ron meant you no harm," talked Harry quietly.  
"Did you see him, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Did you see the way he was delighted to make fun of her, 'that walking skeleton'!"  
"I saw it," responded Harry, "but, even so, you made a mistake. You slapped him strongly on the face; you should've seen the mark it left on his cheek, clearly outlined."  
"Well, it happened automatically," explained the angry Hermione, "and besides, he deserved it. He didn't know what true feelings were. I doubt whether he has a heart."  
So those words seemed a bit sarcastic.  
"Listen," began Harry, "we both know Ron's habit. He's sometimes arrogant, and only cares about what's best for him. However, he's still a human being; he's one of us."  
"I know Harry," wept Hermione, her tears rushing down her soft cheek, "but I couldn't stand him anymore. I was just commenting on the effect of Dolohov's appearance. He just thought of babbling some rubbish."  
Soothingly, Harry wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she rested her head on his shoulder.   
"Forgive him, will you?" queried Harry. "For me?"  
"Only if he stops his foolishness and cruelty," replied Hermione.  
"He will," whispered Harry, hopefully, "he will."

She looked into his eyes, and ironically a smile appeared on her face, which was covered with tears.  
"I love you," admitted Hermione, beaming.  
"I love you too," responded Harry, and they hugged for the last time that morning.

"Better get back inside, the bell's going to ring any moment now," advised Hermione.  
And so, they did. The moment they stepped in, they were very thankful. No student noticed them, because everyone was hurrying to class, for the bell has rung immediately. Cunningly, though, they joined the crowd and moved forwards. Harry was looking over the heads of some third years, hopeful to catch a glimpse Ron, but no sign of him. He probably head them off to Divination, escaping the anger and disappointment of Hermione, and Harry's harsh criticism.  
Harry left Hermione, who hurried to her Arithmancy class, whilst he walked towards the Potions classroom. The throng of seventh year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws forced him to wait until everybody was inside; he was the last one to enter. It so happened that they had their Potions test now. Unluckily, Professor Snape was ill, and couldn't watch over the students. All the other staff was busy, and no one was free except for Harry.  
The mood was tense, and the students were discussing some last minute questions before the test. Meanwhile, Harry walked forwards in the murky room, heading towards Professor Snape's desk. There were the pieces of parchment, all neatly placed in a stack. In addition to that, part of their test seemed to be practical. Harry noticed some forty cauldrons lined up at the back of the room. And in the private cupboard that no one but Professor Snape had the right to lay hands on, were about thirty vials, each filled with purple liquid. Also, there were jars full of dead rats, cockroaches, chickens' legs, and frog tongues.  
Harry found his way through the aisle and distributed the pieces of parchment. Each hand that received the test was shivering, as if the veins within were about to explode. Harry shot each student a hopeful look, wishing him and her good luck on the test.  
Finally, everyone had a test, and they were all ready to begin.  
"Allright class, you've got thirty five minutes to complete this written test," started Harry, "then you'll be tested on this…um…bubbly thing potion."  
Each student, even those who were remarkably good at Defence Against the Dark Arts with Harry, seemed to despair. Clearly, they didn't have enough time to study. Or perhaps Professor Snape was too harsh on them, as usual.

Harry took a seat on Professor Snape's chair, and began reading the process of the practical test the students had to carry out.  
He found a letter, directed to him.

_Potter,  
_

_After the students finish their written test (and make sure nobody cheats, otherwise a zero will be given, in addition to three detentions), they are asked to prepare the Gloomy Bubble Potion. They have studied this potion for one week, and I don't care whether they've got it in their thick brains or not. Your job is to hand them the materials, including the cauldrons. They should know the procedure, and have studied it thoroughly. Do not explain the method, and let each and every student depend on him or herself. The potion can be prepared within approximately fifteen minutes. Anyone who's late shall have five points taken from their house. This is how the process is carried out:  
1. Make sure your cauldron is absolutely clean  
2. Obtain one vial that contains a purple solution known as "Nozitoks"   
3. Add the "Nozitoks" solution to the cauldron  
4. Procure a dead rat from the jars provided, and cut its tail carefully  
5. Tear the outermost skin off, and set it in the cauldron  
6. You will notice that the tail will be immediately dissolved by the "Nozitoks" solution, changing the color into emerald green  
7. When you begin to smell a fume emerging from the cauldron, instantly add three cockroaches that are alive  
8. The cockroach wings will be the only remnants of the cockroach after adding it to the potion  
9. The potion will start swirling and rising slowly  
10. Place five chicken legs into the potion, and observe how an immediate flash of red light occurs  
11. Collect two frog tongues, and chop them into cube sized bits  
12. Drop the cubes into the solution  
13. If all goes well, an opaque, navy blue, dark purple, bloody red bubble will arise  
14. Touch it with the tip of your wand, and in turn it will shrink in size to fit in a jar  
15. Seal the jar tightly, to avoid the bubble to escape, and label the jar with your name  
16. Place your jar at the front shelf, and return all cauldrons to original position  
17. In real life, this bubble could be penetrated and used to be transported underwater or above land_

Remember Potter, do not offer to help anyone, or else, I will know when I get well.  
Collect all parchments and neatly set them in the third drawer to the left of this table.

Severus Snape  


It seemed like Professor Snape was actually talking to him through the letter, face to face. As always, Professor Snape was extremely demanding, cruel, and strict.

The clock was ticking, and so far, thirty minutes have passed since the start of the written test. The fact that the students hadn't had time to completely understand a theory composed of fifty-six pages in their textbook was inevitably trivial to Professor Snape.  
Some of the students now looked frail, and their hands, as Harry thought, were no doubt numb from writing. Harry had a copy of the test on the table, and he couldn't believe how intricate Professor Snape's questions were. No need to mention how much writing was to be filling the blanks. His questions for sixth years and previous years were difficult indeed, but not at all like these ones. Possibly, Professor Snape thought of toughening up the questions for N.E.W.T level.  
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock  
At last, the time was over, and Harry heard students bang their foreheads with their hands. He inferred that they must've not completed the whole test. Indeed, as he strolled around the classroom collecting the parchments, he noticed that some students have left one full page vacant of information. Harry felt sorry for them, but he couldn't have changed the way Professor Snape did things in his classroom, otherwise he could be reported, or worse expelled.  
More and more parchments found their way to Harry's hands, and a few of them were soaked with tears. As Harry momentarily turned his head around, he saw the students scarcely breathing normally. They took in one breath after the other, in a consecutive order, but too fast.  
"Calm down everyone," advised Harry amicably, "at least you did your best."  
After all the parchments were collected, Harry used his wand to transfer them in a staggered way across the class, and eventually placing them in the drawer Professor Snape instructed him to put them in. This lightened up some pale faces in the classroom, and only a few of the distressed seventh years were able to grin.   
"Now, pay attention," began Harry, "you shall start your practical testing in a few moments. The cauldrons are back there, and the vials shall be collected by each one of you. I have the jars here on the desk. What else…Oh, you might need to use some knives, and I've got them here. Other than that, the potion shall be carried out in solitude."  
A minute later, the crowd was moving forwards, seeking the vials. Each student was vigilant to not spill the "Nozitoks" solution, for it has the ability to burn every flesh it touches. The jars of cockroaches, dead rats, chicken legs, and frog tongues were procured, and nearly none of them were left empty.   
Every single student hurried back to their tables, placing their materials, and then scurried briskly to the back of the room to return with their cauldrons.  
Everyone yelled "_Scourgify_". Of course, that reminded Harry of the first step in the procedure, "Make sure your cauldron is absolutely clean".

Ten minutes have passed so far, and the room, which was originally gloomy, turned even more dusky as the bubbles emerged from the cauldrons. None of the bubbles had a different color than the expected result, which made Harry rejoice in. He would imagine laughing at Professor Snape's disappointed greasy face right now.   
"Five minutes to go, everybody," mouthed Harry, as he took a tour around the classroom, and shot a gladdened look at everyone.   
Hastily, they shrank their bubbles into jar-fit size, and sealed their jars. Quickly, they wrote their names on labels, and stuck them onto the top of the lid. Eventually, all jars were arranged and lined up on the front shelf. The cauldrons were cleaned once again, and returned to the back of the classroom.  
Harry was delighted to see a hopeful smile on every face. Presumably, the practical examination was much simpler than the written one.  
And there came the sound of the bell, penetrating into the dungeons. The students, although gossiping about what they wrote on the test, were at least satisfied by how well the results have gone in their potions. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs left the classroom deserted.  
"Colloportus!" muttered Harry, and the door sealed itself with a squelching noise.   
Harry joined the moving crowd, heading to his next class, Care of Magical Creatures. On the way, he spotted Draco Malfoy teasing a first year Gryffindor, who wore large glasses, and had his incisors stuck out of his mouth. Harry felt sorry for the first year, as he watched Draco swing his glasses up in the air. The pathetic kid relied entirely on his glasses for vision; he couldn't have seen anything without them.  
"Ten points from Slytherin, Malfoy," yelled Harry, as he was nearing him.  
Draco tilted his head towards Harry, gritting his teeth.  
"Fine," roared Draco. He thought of revenge, and so, he dropped the kid's glasses and stepped on them.  
"Perhaps ten more, Malfoy," added Harry, as Draco left with Crabbe and Goyle.  
"Reparo!" came a familiar voice, fixing the pair of broken glasses.  
Harry, who's been looking at Draco disappear in the far distance, found a tall, red haired boy presenting the kid his glasses.  
"I was wondering where you were," commented Harry, as he joined Ron to Care of Magical Creatures.  
"Where else could I be?" asked Ron, ironically. "Anyway, we had fun this time."  
"Fun in Divination?" asked Harry, grinning at Ron.  
"Yeah," replied Ron, "you should've seen us. We were shooting arrows, Harry!"  
"So now Firenze is turning you into savages?"  
"No, of course not," explained Ron sincerely, "he said that the bow and arrow were two of the oldest weapons known to wizard kind before there was such thing as a wand. Now, what really got us into it is that he actually handed each and every one of us a bow an arrow! We took turns in shooting. He put an old wooden circular log on one of the pine trees, and who ever shot the arrow right in the middle, was the best."  
"Could you perhaps explain why?" interrogated Harry, as the two of them stepped out of the gates.  
"Well, he said that if you strike exactly at the middle, then you'd have no difficulty in the nearby future aiming with your wand. If you shot at the closest circle to the middle point, then it would mean that you'd be inaccurate. And boy, if you miss, and go way off course, then you would be in big trouble," explained Ron earnestly.  
"And how is that related to the use of a wand?" queried Harry again.  
"I don't know," answered Ron, straight away, "ask Firenze, he's the Divination teacher, not me."  
"Sorry," apologized Harry, as the pair of them were approaching Hagrid's cabin.  
"It's ok," laughed Ron, "I just can't believe the way Firenze congratulated me on my first shot."  
"What did he say?"  
" 'You must be a natural, Mr. Weasley'", Ron imitated the centaur's voice, "it must've been beginners' luck."  
Harry grinned at him. He has always believed that Ron had the talent for some things, and lacked the talent for others. Although he was a total mess when he first began Quidditch last year, he's changed into a perfect keeper for this year. Now, he possibly possessed another fine quality of a wizard, arrow shooting.  
"Oh, look who's here," mumbled Ron, sounding annoyed.  
When Harry turned around, he saw Hermione hurrying to join the class before the bell rang.  
"I dropped my books, and perhaps that delayed my arrival," claimed Hermione.  
"Wish it delayed it even more," murmured Ron softly behind Harry's back.  
"What was that you said?" asked Hermione.  
"Guys, stop arguing, right away!" grunted Harry; he didn't stand seeing Ron and Hermione fighting again.  
"I considered never coming here, while he's with you Harry," spoke Hermione briskly, pretending that Ron wasn't there, "but as an afterthought, I wanted to attend Hagrid's lesson."  
"Now listen Hermione…" began Ron.  
"Ron! Hermione!" twittered Harry furiously. "Shake hands and end this argument at once. If you carry on this stupidity, it will only lead you to more trouble and grief, and we've got enough here to deal with."  
Reluctantly, Hermione stretched out her hand, looking sideways.  
At first, Ron hesitated, but then, he shook her hand.  
"Now, I want you two to promise that you'll never come back to picking rows with each other, agree?"  
Hermione grinned at Ron, and so did he.  
"Allright, but he'll have to promise to never make fun of Winky again," pointed out Hermione.  
Harry awaited Ron's response, which turned out to be bearable.  
"Ok," muttered Ron, and smiled at his best friend's beaming face.  
Harry was happy that Hermione and Ron's friendship didn't get strained.

A few minutes later, the lesson began. Today, Hagrid was taking the students on a trip to deep inside the forest. He wanted them to haul some woodlice back to his cabin, or perhaps just outside of it. Only last year, when Hagrid was away, the substitute witch, Professor Grubbly Plank, taught them about Bowtruckles. And as Hermione described them, they were tree guardians. If one approached them, it was advisable to hand them some woodlice as a gift that would create sort of a diversion. Otherwise, they could easily harm a person with their long, pointy, and sharp fingers, which weren't at all needed around the eyeballs.  
Some of the sixth year Slytherins were now complaining about this terrible quest. Journeying into the deep Forbidden Forest was a heavy load on everyone. There were various types of creatures that could attack at any time possible. But as long as the students stuck to Hagrid, he assured them that they would be safe and secure. Sandra Sanderson had her back adjoined to Pansy Parkinson; she feared being left behind.  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were successful in collecting some woodlice. The woodlice wasn't very heavy, nor was it really light. It just kept on slipping from their grips.  
"Oh, this won't do any good, will it?" commented Hermione, totally annoyed by the incessant falling of woodlice.  
"Locomoter Woodlice!" she squabbled, and the woodlice she carried were hovering in the air, following her to wherever she marched.  
"Now that's a fair solution to this problem," said Ron, and set his woodlice down. He took out his wand, and muttered the locomotion spell. Harry did the same thing too.  
"Keep on with me folks," came the grunting of Hagrid, "don' wanna get lost, do ya?"  
Soon, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were at the front, nearing Hagrid, who had Fang on his right side.  
"Hagrid, will we ever get to meet the Bowtruckles? I mean, we already have last year, but what about this year?" inquired Ron.  
"Well Ron," croaked Hagrid, "this year, you aint gonna meet Bowtruckles, you're gonna meet Sorrowtuckles!"  
Those words confused Ron a bit.  
"Then…why did we have to venture into the forest to collect woodlice?" he asked repeatedly.  
"Sorrowtuckles, Ron, can give ya a hard time if ya don' feed 'em. It's preferable ta feed them some woodlice, otherwise, they can be really hazardous," and Hagrid let out a giggle.  
"Hazardous?" asked Harry. "How dangerous can they be? Don't tell me they could be wilder than those Cockatoodles."  
"Far more worse, Harry," responded Hagrid confidently, "ya haven't seen what they're capable o' doing yet. They could toss ya up in the air, and make ya do some cartwheels."  
"Brilliant! Imagine Malfoy performing some cartwheels in front of everyone!" laughed out Ron.  
"They've got sidekick powers Ron, and we can't underestimate them," chattered Hermione.  
"Skip the lecture, will you?" asked Ron, still giggling about the thought of Draco hung up in the air.   
"They've go' teeny tiny talons, which happen to be venomous," added Hagrid, delightfully.  
"Venomous?" asked Ron, looking a bit scared.  
"Yep," grunted Hagrid, "their talons can penetrate abou' three inches or so into the skin. They've go' small openings at the edges; that's were the poison is secreted."  
"Incase that happened, how will we ever get rid of them?" asked Harry, awaiting Hagrid's respond.  
"Well, it's very simple," babbled Hagrid, "just wave some woodlice in front of 'em, and they'll die to get their talons on it."   
"That's all?" inquired Hermione. "That's what we do when we first meet them, and the same when we want to get rid of them?"  
"Yep, it gets no simpler," spluttered Hagrid, and pulled Fang's leash to the left.  
"And what about the poison? How do we get healed?" Ron posed yet another question, as some woodlice bumped into him.  
"Honestly Ron, I dunno, but Madam Pomfrey will surely have the cure," laughed Hagrid.

"Would you look at that?" came a cold voice.  
It was Draco, noticing some little bright yellow eyes, whose light reached out of a tree trunk.  
"Oh dear," whispered Hagrid.  
"What is it?" asked Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.  
"A Sorrowtuckle," and immediately he marched off to Draco's direction.  
Out of the tree trunk, which was hollow of course, stepped a little funny looking creature. It was about two feet high, having the body of a tree log. Its hands seemed like long wires tied around it several times. It had miniscule eyes on the top, and ragged opening in the middle, which was surely its mouth. There were even some caterpillars crawling out of its mouth.  
"Now Malfoy, be careful," advised Hagrid, pulling Malfoy back.  
"I haven't done anything wrong, have I?" he asked rudely.  
"No, just step back," whispered Hagrid, trying to pull him back.  
"I'm just having a bit of fun with the little nutter," claimed Malfoy.  
"He'll attack ya, Malfoy," argued Hagrid, and indeed, the Sorrowtuckle was creeping nearer to Draco.  
Instead of listening to Hagrid, Draco preferred risking the chance. He took some woodlice from a pile he had previously collected in a bag, and waved it vigorously in front of the Sorrowtuckle.  
It was gazing at the woodlice, blinking with every move.  
"Come on, come on and get it, you idiot," giggled Draco.  
The Sorrowtuckle did something incredible within seconds. Its hands, which seemed like long wires tied around it, quickly were loose, and reached up to the woodlice. The Sorrowtuckle snatched it like thunder, and immediately forced it into the mouth. No action was being held by the mouth itself; however, some tiny caterpillars were chewing the woodlice and chopping it into simpler pieces.  
Draco was surprised to see how the Sorrowtuckle behaved hastily. There wasn't any woodlice left in his hand, and he had thought that the Sorrowtuckle would be begging him for some woodlice.  
"It was thoughtful of ya to wave some woodlice in front of the poor fellow," uttered Hagrid, "if you hadn't any woodlice, it would've injured ya, Malfoy, with its sharp talons."  
Harry, Hermione, and Ron were astonished too. The way the Sorrowtuckle just grabbed the woodlice from Malfoy's firm grip amazed them. It was much like when the Giant Squid stretched out its tentacles to grab something such as a bird from the air, and quickly return them inside the lake.  
"See? I know what to do in life threatening situations," spoke Draco confidently, as if he had by any chance read a chapter about Sorrowtuckles.  
"Ya sure ya did," muttered Hagrid. "Ok folks, we're goin' back now; I think ya've got enough woodlice. We won' need to replenish the supply until next week, when all o' the Sorrowtuckles have swallowed it."  
From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw the Sorrowtuckle jog back to its tree trunk. It was truly a fabulous little magical creature.  
"That was fantastic, Malfoy! Pity it didn't stick its talons in your pink face!" yelled Ron loudly.  
Draco turned his head and looked at Ron, as if he were looking at dung. He had his teeth gritting, and his eyes were mainly focused on Ron.  
Harry and Hermione laughed every now and then, as Ron imitated Draco shivering in his place when the Sorrowtuckle snatched the woodlice from his hand. They could've sworn that Draco would perform a stunning spell at them anytime now; nevertheless, he knew it was no good picking a fight in front of a teacher.

Finally, the students stepped out of the Forbidden Forest, and into the lights of the Hogwarts grounds.  
"Allright, lemme see," grunted Hagrid, "ten points to everyone who obtained woodlice, and five more ta Malfoy because he actually demonstrate how ta deal with a Sorrowtuckle. Good job!"  
Instantly, every slimy cunning Slytherin applauded.  
"The slimy git," whispered Ron, "I bet you thirty sickles that he never had a clue what a Sorrowtuckle was capable of doing."  
" 'It must've been beginners' luck'" Hermione imitated Ron's voice when he previously commented on how Firenze paid him a compliment about his perfect arrow shooting.  
"Allright, drop the woodlice right 'ere," pointed out Hagrid, as he opened a big wooden box right outside his cabin.  
Everyone was congregating around the box now.  
"Oy!" shouted Ron, glaring at Goyle "Easy, you're going to push me in."  
With Goyle's gorilla-like arms, he could sweep away anything that stood in his path.

"The moron," murmured Ron softly to Harry and Hermione.  
There came the trite sound of the bell once again, sending all the students to third period.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were due in Charms next, which they were very much looking forwards to. Previously, they have learnt a dividing charm, which would divide a liquid into two parts, and separate them from each other. Just yesterday, Professor Flitwick squeaked something about the division of solids that was going to be learned the following day. He made everyone intrigued, because he pointed out that division of solids might be more interesting than that of liquids.  
Suddenly, Harry heard a hoot. When he looked up, it was Sweetums, Hermione's cute owl, descending.  
"Oh, great, she's finally arrived," smiled Hermione, as she took the parcel tied around the right leg, "I've sent her to Grimmauld Place several weeks ago, just to inform them about current events."  
Hermione opened the parcel briskly, and took out the letter. There wasn't much writing in it; perhaps only three lines.   
Her eyes got a wild look…  
"We've got some bad news," she declared, and her eyes shifted to Harry and Ron.


	30. Planning the Rescue Mission

30 (Planning the Rescue Mission)

Harry and Ron shot her confused looks.  
"Who's it from?" asked Ron.  
"It's…" hesitated Hermione, "from Professor Lupin and Made Eye."  
"Great, it's about time we hear some news from them," spoke Harry, hopeful that whatever news the letter carried wasn't going to be overwhelming.  
"The only problem is," began Hermione, taking a deep breath, "they've sent us some awful news."  
Harry and Ron shook their heads, swallowing a lump in their throats.  
"Antonin Dolohov has taken refuge in the Golden Wheezer Jokeshop," thundered Hermione, hoping that if it was said any faster, Harry and Ron might not understand, "and captured Fred and George; they're his hostages."  
Ron dropped the book he was holding to the floor instantly.  
"No, it can't be," he whispered horrifically.  
"I'm very sorry Ron," sighed Hermione sympathetically.  
Harry and Hermione placed their arms around him to bring him some comfort.  
"Don't you worry Ron," claimed Harry, "trust me, they'll be fine."  
"Fine? Harry, those are my brothers out there!"  
"We know Ron," talked Hermione, "but they've got brains that no bookworm has ever had; they'll figure out someway to get out."  
"But they're trapped," exclaimed Ron, "and Dolohov is a Death Eater! He might torture them to insanity!"  
"How do you know Ron? He could be just using them as hostages to scare away wizards of the Ministry," explained Harry.  
"Yeah, but what if he performs the Cruciatus curse on them? What if he controls them by the Imperius curse?"  
"He won't," yelped Hermione, "we won't let him."  
"How can you be so positive?" interrogated Ron.  
"Fred and George have always been part of this family, Ron," mouthed Harry hastily, "we couldn't let them go so easily. You know how much they mean to all of us."  
Ron was so disappointed and bewildered. He was not to be blamed. What seemed like million things happening baffled him, and he was completely lost. He had asked Harry previously about trying out the Wronski Feint. He had also been forced to accompany Harry and Hermione to visit Winky during Valentine's Day. But now, the Hogsmeade trip was canceled because of Dolohov's sudden appearance. More than that, he couldn't stand seeing his brothers imprisoned with a very dangerous Death Eater, who has murdered the Prewetts. It was enough of a burden for him to hold last year, when they all zoomed to St. Mungo's visiting the injured Mr. Weasley.  
"I still can't believe he got to them," croaked Ron, "I mean of all people, why them?"  
"Maybe it occurred to him that they were still young, although of age, and never experienced in the real life," spluttered Hermione.

The sight of students entering the classroom soon subsided, as Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Charms classroom. Ron wasn't in a mood at all to listen to Professor Flitwick's squeaking. He looked a bit pale, probably because of the bad news he heard.  
"Good morning class," squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick.  
"Good morning Professor Flitwick," yelled the sixth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.  
"Now, I understand that last period I have told you that we shall be learning the solid-division charm," twittered Professor Flitwick.  
He stood over fifteen textbooks, and took out his wand.  
"Now watch me closely," he burbled.  
He pointed his wand at a vase, which was placed on top of a shelf in the back corner.  
He waved his wand horizontally and then diagonally using his legendary skill.  
"Frogos!" he screeched.  
Momentarily, a blue beam of light shot out of the tip of his wand, and zoomed through the aisle. The blue light was circling around the vase so rapidly, and soon the bright light turned into foggy smoke. The smoke instantly made some sort of an explosion, and vanished. There stood two pieces of the original vase.  
Applause was heard from everyone, with the exception of Ron.  
"Brilliant Professor!" yelled Seamus Finnigan.  
"Fantastic move!" shouted Dean briskly.  
A fleeting grin appeared on Professor Flitwick's tiny face.  
"Why thank you Mr. Finnigan, and you too Mr. Thomas," cried Professor Flitwick. "Now, have you all seen how it's done?"  
Everybody nodded, curious of what was going to happen next.  
"So, the basic idea behind it all is to concentrate on moving you wand horizontally and then diagonally," tittered Professor Flitwick, "and mind you, don't move it hastily, nor too slowly. It has to be done at a reasonable rate."  
Hermione's hand shot up in the air.  
"Yes, Ms. Granger?"  
"Professor, does this charm work on living things as well? I mean like animals," asked Hermione earnestly.  
"Good point," agreed Professor Flitwick, "this charm can work on living things as well as nonliving things, with the exception of us, humans."  
Harry thought that was provocative a bit. Still, he was not completely happy. Pity, if he ever got to Dolohov, he won't be able to divide him into two bodies.  
"Professor?" asked Harry, without raising his hand.  
"Yes, Mr. Potter?"  
"How could you use this charm in life threatening situations?" he questioned.  
The whole class seemed intrigued.  
"Brilliant question, Mr. Potter," squeaked Professor Flitwick, beaming at him, "well, incase some evil fellow is chasing you around, you might as well divide something solid into two parts. That way, the two parts could create some sort of impediment and slow the enemy's movement."  
Harry nodded, understanding what was explained.  
Ron wasn't participating at all; he had a headache.  
"Profess…sor?" spoke Ron slowly. Harry and Hermione looked at him instantly, knowing that he had to leave the classroom.  
"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"  
"I…I think I should…go… to the Hospital Wing; I'm not feeling so good," mumbled Ron, his face so pale.  
"Oh well, dear, ok…Hospital Wing…off you go then," responded Professor Flitwick amicably.  
Ron stood up, and sort of staggered out of the classroom.  
"He's definitely sick," whispered Harry.  
"I know, did you see the way he dropped his book when he heard about Fred and George?" chattered Hermione softly.  
"He's probably still in shock, and that's why he decided to skive off Charms," explained Harry thoroughly.  
"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger," cried Professor Flitwick, "do you mind stopping your private conversations and paying attention?"  
He lost his balance for a second, because he was leaning down to the left to see where Harry and Hermione talked, but eventually managed to stand up right again.  
"Now, if you're all sure that this charm doesn't need anymore explanation," continued Professor Flitwick, stepping down the fifteen textbooks, "then please stand in a straight queue over here."  
He indicated the aisle in the middle of the classroom.  
In obedience, every pupil moved away from their tables, and stood in the aisle.   
"I'm worried about Ron," mumbled Harry softly.  
"Me too, but we can't just walk under some pretence," claimed Hermione.

Professor Flitwick was currently counting some pebbles he had in his desk, to make sure there was enough for all of the class. The amount he had was more than enough.  
"Well, you know what to do," informed Professor Flitwick, looking at the students who stood three to four feet taller than him. "Point your wand straight at the pebble, moved it in the correct way, and enunciate the charm clearly."  
A girl from Ravenclaw, by the name of Gwen Hardy, was first to go.  
She did seem a bit apprehensive about the result of her first trial. She raised her wand, and made sure that the tip of it was pointing straight at the center of the pebble. The wand moved horizontally then diagonally, and Gwen muttered "_Frogos!_" At once, a beam of blue light shot out of her wand, and traveled through the air, until it reached the pebble. It started surrounding the pebble from all the sides, and then turned into smoke. An explosion was heard, and soon the foggy smoke vanished. What made everyone curious was the result. The pebble didn't divide into two parts; instead, it was broken down into numerous amounts of little pebbles, which were scattered all over the table.  
"Good first try, Ms. Hardy," Professor Flitwick paid her a compliment, "a slight lapse, but it's good enough for beginners. Five points to Ravenclaw!"  
All her fellow Ravenclaws clapped.  
"Next in the line," squeaked Professor Flitwick.  
To the front walked Robert Slinkhard, a tall serious Ravenclaw boy.  
Tentatively, he approached. Then, his wand rose in the air by his will. A wave to the left, a wave to the right, a wave to the downside left, and the word "Frogos!" was spoken. Quickly, like thunder, blue light emerged from his wand, and reached the pebble. It started circling around it, covering it from bottom to top. The blue light transformed into foggy smoke, and soon an explosion occurred. It instantly diminished, and left its position. Successfully, Robert managed to break the pebble into two halves.  
Everyone, including Harry and Hermione, applauded in delight.  
"Wonderful!" cried Professor Flitwick. "Five points to Ravenclaw!"  
The applause increased, and Robert's head was lifted high up.  
"Ms. Granger, you're next," squeaked Professor Flitwick, looking up at her, his head straight up.  
Harry was right behind her. He encouraged her to focus and concentrate on the movement and speed of her wand. Then, Hermione turned to the front.  
Slowly, she pulled her wand out her pocket, and moved forwards. She raised it till the level of the pebble's core; she was incredibly accurate. Deftly, she waved her wand once to the left, and then to the right, and then diagonally downward.  
"Frogos!" she declared, and blinding blue light shot out the tip of her wand; she had to cover her eyes. The blue light fabulously scurried towards the pebble, and moved hastily around it. The circular movement increased in speed, and looked like the layers of a cabbage moving upwards. The blinding light vanished with a flash, and on came the foggy smoke after the explosion. The sight seemed like some bubbles were pushing their way out of the smoke, and then carried it away. Perfectly, Hermione divided the pebble into two halves that were exactly equal in size and shape.  
"Wonderfully done!" screeched Professor Flitwick, and clapped festively, and so did the rest of the class. "Excellent performance, Ms. Granger, ten points to Gryffindor!"  
Harry beamed at her as she returned to the back of the line. He patted her shoulder and gave her a thumbs up. She came closer to his ear, and whispered: "It's not tough at all, just be accurate in setting your wand on the level of the pebble's center."  
Harry crept forward, and lifted his eyeglasses up. He took out his old wand, and cautiously pointed it forward. He had his time, thus he wasn't in a hurry. As Hermione said, he lifted his wand, until it was at level of the pebble's core perfectly. Harry's hand was shaking, as he grew more nervous about his accuracy. He didn't want to fail from the very first try, nor did he want to be embarrassed. Nevertheless, he resisted the pain and stretched out his hand. Alert as Crookshanks was sometimes, he suddenly moved his wand horizontally, and then diagonally, and automatically, the word "Frogos!" was pronounced.   
Immediately, a jet of bluish whitish light was released from the tip of Harry's wand. It moved in a zigzag, penetrating the air so fast like a shock of lightning. The light began to circle the pebble like Devil's Snare, soon covering it entirely. Next came a loud explosion, a puff of smog, and the wisp of smoke hovered away. There stood two fine halves of the original pebble, with no difference at all between them.  
"Marvelous, Mr. Potter!" and Professor Flitwick energetically clapped. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"  
Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Hermione all cheered for him.  
Harry walked to the rear end of the line.  
"You did it! And the pebbles had no slight difference, not even a scratch!" belched Hermione, and she beamed at him.  
"Thanks," muttered Harry, as Neville, Dean, and Seamus patted his head.  
"I wish Ron was here," stated Hermione, "he would've loved this."  
Harry agreed, although he hadn't the ability to do something about it.

For the next thirty minutes, the rest of the queue got a chance to divide a pebble into two parts. By that time, everyone managed to earn their house some points. The charm was simple, but needed absolute accuracy and precise movement of the wand.  
"Here's your assignment for now," squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick. With waves of his wand, letters appeared on the blackboard, and then phrases.

It read: _Read chapter twenty-one, which explains about dividing charms, which include a revision of liquids, and a more detailed explanation of solid division. After reading, answer the following questions:  
1- Who first came up with the idea of solid division? In which century did he?  
2- How was solid division helpful to that wizard in the famous incident of "The Escaped Hydra"?  
3- What differences would the incorrect movement of the wand cause to the object being divided?  
Bonus Question:  
Based on your logical understanding to the processes of solid and liquid division, how can you charm a semisolid object that is composed of both a solid and a liquid? What do you think the result would be like?_

Notice: If this assignment is not finished in class, complete it as homework to be handed in on Tuesday.  
  
Harry and Hermione were just finished copying the assignment off the board.  
"That last bonus question seems a bit challenging," whispered Hermione, thinking about a sensible answer.  
"Well, don't rush, the answer may be found in the next chapter," suggested Harry.  
"Harry, I've read the whole book, and nothing about this combination was mentioned," acknowledged Hermione, grinning.  
"It may need some analytical thinking," suggested Harry yet again, "but it's just a bonus question, it won't cause you to lose marks."  
"I know, but it's brilliant to think over and over before getting a correct answer, and a bonus question must not be left blank," explained Hermione earnestly.  
Harry could say no more, thus he opened his book to chapter twenty-one and started reading soundly. He found the answer for the first question in the first opening paragraph. It was an old wizard, by the name of Luke the Second, who first discovered the solid division charm. That of course happened in the seventh century, which was a very long time ago, when perhaps Hogwarts was just founded. Harry quickly picked up his quill, dipped it in some ink, and wrote down the answer, copying the two paragraphs he read, word by word. When he continued reading, it was a bit difficult to directly understand how Luke the Second managed to defeat the escaped Hydra using the solid division charm, because it followed lots of steps that gave a vague image about the actual use of the charm against the Hydra. Harry kept thinking about what to write down. He decided to paraphrase what he read, putting it into his own words in a short paragraph. He briefly explained how the Hydra had almost killed Luke the Second, had not he divided a nearby fox into two halves. The two halves created a type of diversion, which lost the Hydra its concentration. Luckily, though, Luke the Second managed to flee, delightful with his new discovery.  
Of course, the answer to the third question needed no thinking at all, for Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the students saw the aftermath of a wrong wand movement. Harry jotted down some sentences that explained the differences a wrong move could make, including different size and shape of the two halves.  
The clock was ticking, and the bell was due to ring anytime now.  
And so, its sound crept all over the huge castle of Hogwarts, ending this period.   
Harry was glad that he finished three questions, and only one was left blank, the bonus one. He decided to seek Hermione's help during the Study Society meeting for the sixth years today evening, hopeful that she'll give him a clue or something.  
"Hermione," mouthed Harry, "we'd better go check on Ron."  
Hermione just finished packing up her books in her schoolbag.  
"I agree," she commented, and off they went.  
Harry and Hermione traveled to the Hospital Wing, so hopeful that Ron was allright and cured by Madam Pomfrey. In they entered, and saw seven beds occupied by three third year Ravenclaws, two fourth year Hufflepuffs, and two first year Slytherins. Harry and Hermione had not time at all to find out the cause of their injury, but instead scurried to the bed by the left corner of the Hospital Wing.  
"Ron, are you ok?" asked Harry right away, as soon as Ron came into sight.  
He was frail, and his shoulders were slump.  
"Are you allright Ron?" asked Hermione, sitting down on the bed.  
"I guess so," answered Ron, weakly, sitting upright.  
Harry and Hermione didn't know how to comfort him, and ease his pain. Hermione felt remorseful, because she could've shut her mouth, keeping the news as a secret.  
"I'm worried about Fred and George," whispered Ron, so softly that Harry and Hermione had to lip-read, "that mad maniac could have them tied up in a cellar."  
"Ron," began Hermione, stroking his hand, "I'm sure they'll be fine…."  
"Hermione, could you use your common sense?" asked Ron, a bit enraged. "That Dolohov guy is a murderer, a notorious killer! He could easily slit their throats with a knife, or injure them using the Cruciatus curse."  
There was nothing Harry could've done that mollified Ron.  
"Ron, listen to me, you think we're going to let them meet their doom?" asked Harry, purposefully.  
"No, I don't," answered Ron, his ears turning pink, "but I hate to see you all ok about it; somebody has got to do something."  
Harry and Hermione shot each other mournful looks.  
"That's it," splattered Ron, "we're going to Hogsmeade, whether you like it or not!"  
"What? But Ron, we could get killed," declined Hermione.  
"Oh, and now you're afraid to risk this adventure?" asked Ron, sarcastically.  
Hermione felt slight shame, and she didn't know what else to say.  
"Ron, you should calm down and…" began Harry.  
"I think you're both mental to sit down like helpless little monkeys, doing nothing about it!" Ron's temper was arising now, and he intended to get out of bed.  
"Ron! For God sake, rest for while, we'll think about what to do in the evening!" cried Hermione, trying to push him down. Harry helped her, though Ron's arrogance was irresistible.  
"How do you know Fred and George won't be slaughtered by dusk?" shouted Ron angrily, and pushed away Hermione.  
Suddenly, some familiar footsteps were heard. Madam Pomfrey, the mattress, came in a hurry, her grip tightened.   
"Gerrof!" yelled Ron, as Harry tried to push him down.  
"Mr. Weasley! Good heavens!" mouthed Madam Pomfrey, frightened. Immediately, she loosened her grip, and released some brownish powder into the air. Momentarily, Ron smelled it, and fell straight asleep.   
Harry and Hermione were catching on to their breaths, sitting straight up again. They couldn't believe how strong and determined Ron was.  
"My dears, are you ok?" asked Madam Pomfrey.  
"Yes…yes we're fine," answered Hermione, straightening her tie.  
"Did he harm you?" asked Madam Pomfrey, curiously.  
"No…he wouldn't do such thing," commented Harry, wiping some sweat on his forehead.  
"The poor boy," commented the mattress, "I cannot cure him because the pain and anguish he feels is not physical. It's emotional."  
Her voice quieted down into a lower tone.  
"I'm afraid he's experiencing the beginning of insanity," whispered Madam Pomfrey even softer.  
Harry and Hermione had their eyes wide open.  
The mattress shot them sorrowful looks, and left without any other word.   
"He's in deep distress, Harry," mouthed Hermione, looking sorrowfully at Ron. "Poor Ron."  
Harry was stroking Ron's hair, sensing the rise in temperature.  
"He's as hot as fire," tittered Harry. He took out his wand, and summoned the nearest jug of water from three beds across. He soaked his palm with some water, and then whipped Ron's forehead, which was boiling.  
"So, what do you suggest we do, Hermione?" asked Harry, hopeful to get an answer that would satisfy Ron.  
Hermione lifted her head slowly, and looked at him.  
"Well, he said that we should go to Hogsmeade," spoke Hermione, "maybe that's what we should do."  
"Just like that? Without a plan?" inquired Harry.  
"Well, we never really had plans. The plans came along as we fought our way to the Death Eaters," replied Hermione earnestly.  
"This time, we have to get organized. We can't just fight Dolohov and rescue Fred and George at the same time," claimed Harry.  
Hermione was speechless, and she looked fleetingly at the exhausted Ron.  
Harry was clearly thinking hard about some solution to this awful problem. He had nothing coming to his mind for a while, and then, a brilliant idea floated by.  
"Listen to this," began Harry, "we'll leave Hogwarts secretly at night after dinner, and we'll sleep in that cellar that I used to come to Hogsmeade in third year. We'll cover ourselves with the Invisibility Cloak. When it's dawn, we venture out into the threatened Hogsmeade, concealed under the Invisibility Cloak. Carefully, we'll approach the Golden Wheezer Jokeshop, and at first look in through the window, just to see where Dolohov hid; he could be upstairs. Then, perhaps one of us will push the door open, after another creates some sort of diversion. Ron could charm an object inside the shop, and make it fall. Possibly, it might attract Dolohov's attention. If we're lucky, we'll be able to sneak in, while he takes care of the object and puts it back in place. Then, the three of us stun him, and freeze him for a while. We could even tie him up with thick ropes. Finally, it'll leave us free to rescue Fred and George."  
Hermione had her mouth opened, and her eyes wild.  
"That's an amazing solution, Harry. I can't believe that you turned on your engines at last," cheered Hermione, beaming. However, the smile instantly vanished, when something occurred to her.  
" But…Harry, what if someone gets in the cellar, and accidentally steps on us while we're sleeping, or put some merchandise on us?" she asked earnestly.  
Harry looked at his feet, shameless for not having a proper answer.  
"I'll think about that later," scoffed Harry.  
"And what if the dropping of an object doesn't attract Dolohov's attention? How are we going to be lucky then?"  
"Well…um…I've seen a backdoor in Fred and George's shop. Maybe we could charm something, and let if fall down, near the backdoor. Luckily, Dolohov will think that someone entered from the rear end of the shop," suggested Harry automatically.  
"And what if he's ready and anticipating an attack at anytime? Our stuns, then, won't affect him much," revealed Hermione, cleverly.  
It was incredible how Hermione thought of obstacles to their plan in instants, which spoiled it for Harry.  
"Hermione, honestly, I don't know. We'll wait and see," spewed Harry, annoyed by Hermione's questions.  
"So now you're proving what I suggested at the beginning, that ideas come along as we take our risk," restated Hermione, grinning at him.  
For a moment, Harry thought of Hermione as being the biggest source of nuisance whilst planning for the future. But that only lasted for moments, when Harry nodded his head, admitting that Hermione's thinking was correct.  
"I wonder," began Harry, mysteriously, "how will we ever manage to creep out of the castle, unobtrusively? Filch is always strolling along the corridors, and Snape could even increase the chances of us being caught."  
"Well, we'll be wearing the Invisibility Cloak, won't we? That shouldn't create any problems. But we'll have to be as quite as cats, alert as tigers, and as quick as eagles," described Hermione proudly and confidently.  
Harry cleaned his glasses, and put them back on. He stared at his hand watch; it was one o'clock.  
"Time for lunch," belched Harry, getting up, and soon, Hermione followed him out the Hospital Wing.  
"But what about Ron? Should we just leave him lying there?" she asked over and over again.  
"Give him a break, you've seen the anguish and distress you caused him earlier on, couldn't you just leave him rest for a few hours?" informed Harry.  
"Are you suggesting that I'm the wicked messenger or something?" queried Hermione, exasperated.  
"No," declined Harry, grinning at her, "I'm begging you to not go ahead and babble about everything we go through."  
She had nothing else to argue about, if that's what her boyfriend thought.

They came into the Great Hall, and it was crammed with students, teachers, and ghosts.  
The Gryffindor table was almost full, except for three vacant seats. Harry and Hermione found their way to their seats, and sat down for a meal.  
The roasted chicken was delicious and luscious. The lamb chops were very toothsome, and so was the beefsteak.  
Harry wasn't interested much in eating, for all his thoughts were about Ron's misery, and the obstacles they had to overcome when they rode to Hogsmeade. He was also wondering about a suitable time for trying at the Wronski Feint; besides, they had their Quidditch match against Ravenclaw coming up soon. What also came to his mind was his promise that he made to Hermione. They all agreed to visit Winky, the house-elf, on the fourteenth of February. How could he just leave Hogwarts, where he was safe and protected, and travel to St. Mungo's? Harry was overwhelmed with many events in his head, and wished desperately for a Pensieve.

Hermione had noticed that Harry lost his appetite, and looked at his full plate.  
"You haven't had a bite since we came here," she whispered, "go ahead, and try this beefsteak."  
"I don't think so, Hermione, I'm not in a mood to eat," muttered Harry, and placed his cheek on his hand.  
"Harry, if you don't eat, then I don't eat," grumbled Hermione, and moved her plate away from her.  
He stared at her for a minute.  
"Why should you starve if I have no intension to eat right now?" asked Harry, baffled by her behavior.  
"Harry, look, don't keep worrying about Ron and his brothers. In the end, we'll defeat Dolohov, and rescue Fred and George. If you keep on thinking, then you'll get a headache, and then we'll never be able to move a muscle," she chattered so quickly.  
"Really, I just don't feel like eating right now," pointed out Harry.  
"Well, this is a fair compromise. If you don't bite into something, then I shall not eat either," mentioned Hermione, and sat there awaiting Harry's appetite to come back.  
"Oh well, just for you then," agreed the stubborn Harry finally, and Hermione beamed at him.  
Indeed, when you start eating after losing your appetite for sometime, it feels so great and the food tastes so appetizing that you just keep on biting into more food.  
The grilled beefsteak reminded Harry of first year, when he saw Draco from afar, licking it like he'd never seen anything like it before. Harry forgot how pathetic Draco looked. Whenever there was a feast, he was the first Slytherin to sit down and start eating. It was a wonder why he wasn't so fat like his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Well, eating didn't turn out to be hard, did it?" asked Hermione humorously when they were done eating.  
"No, it wasn't," agreed Harry, "at least I gained some energy to carry on the day."  
"Oi! Hermione!" cried Neville form behind.  
"Yes?"  
"Today's meeting for the Study Society is going to be held at six thirty, sharp. We've got that homework of Professor Flitwick's to discuss, and then probably some more assignments for the next couple of periods," chattered Neville, catching on to his breath, "I'm glad that I won't forget."  
"Allright, I'll be there," spoke Hermione.  
"He must be some fairly good messenger, huh?" emphasized Harry, impressed with Neville's commitment to his position in the Study Society.  
"I thought you were the one responsible; you're the leader, aren't you?" inquired Harry.  
"Well, since Dennis Creevey found this Study Society, he's the one that has the right to make decisions. I just direct the work, and Neville's job needs no more explanation. He just brings us notices from Dennis," noted Hermione.


	31. Discussions

31 (Discussions)

Throughout the day, Harry and Hermione attended the rest of their lessons without Ron. In Transfiguration, they were learning more about the history of Metamorphagi, and the number of those creatures recorded in history. Of course, as Harry learned from Nymphadora Tonks, a person is born a Metamorphagus. So, nobody can learn how to become a Metamorphagus. Of course, being such a spectacular creature allows a person to change the color of hair or other parts of the body at will. That whole lesson reminded Harry about Tonks, the clumsy Auror.

In potions, for Harry's displeasure, Professor Snape was lecturing them about pre-N.E.W.T level testing that was going to start sometime during mid March. He intended to frighten everyone, by mentioning how difficult the questions were, and how they needed deep thought before one could write an answer. Wickedly, he told them that he'd write down the most difficult questions sixth years could expect. Indeed, the curriculum for the sixth years was getting a bit tougher, now that they were entering a new phase of wizard knowledge. For the pre-N.E.W.T tests, they needed to study theories developed behind some certain potions, how they could be applied in real life, and of course, the students were ought to know how to prepare a few potions. Professor Snape pictured pre-N.E.W.T tests as half of what the real N.E.W.T tests taken in seventh year were. He was delighted to use every single possible way to intimidate them, and frighten them. Neville was swallowing lumps, and Dean was scared. And poor Ron, had he been here, he would've thrown himself out the window. Harry and Hermione did sort of reject the idea of having high qualification tests just before the exams, but it was inevitable. It wasn't like their word against Professor Snape's. Besides, these preparatory tests will include not just Potions, but the rest of the major subjects studied in school.  
Finally, the school day was over, and all the Gryffindors headed back to their common room.  
What seemed like an army of ants crept through, pushing here and there, to take up some space. Harry and Hermione each went to their dormitories to change their clothes, for they were sweaty and stinky by now.  
"I'd better take a shower," suggested Hermione, taking off her hair band.  
"Me too," commented Harry, and took some clothes with him to the bathroom.

About half an hour later, Harry lay on his bed and petted Hedwig. He felt that she was the only non-human friend he could ever have. Sometimes, when it was night, and everyone was fast asleep, he would talk to her, as if he were talking to himself. Her bright amber eyes illuminated his four-poster bed. He kept stroking her head gently, and then fed her some owl treats, which she found very luscious. Finally, when she went to sleep, Harry opened up his Broomstick Servicing Kit, and took the magnificent Firebolt X6 out his old trunk. He polished it several times, even though it was gleaming like a brand new shoe. He fancied cutting off the small tips of the tail, to make the tail look nice and equal. And then, when he gave the Broomstick Servicing Kit one deep look, he remembered the old times. It so happened that he received it as a gift from Hermione before starting third year. He was reliving the moments now. He was writing his homework for History of Magic under the blanket, with one torch lit, when a bunch of owls came in, carrying him presents from Hermione, Ron, and Hagrid.

Once Harry had finished writing his Potions homework, he went downstairs, carrying his schoolbag and two quills. He wanted to complete his star chart for Astronomy beside the fire, where he could be inspired and think more about collisions of planets and stars in various galaxies. When he finally arrived at the armchair beside the fire, he was surprised to see a red haired friend sitting on it. It was Ron.  
"So, you came back," mouthed Harry, sitting down beside his best friend.  
"Madam Pomfrey reckoned I should go, or else I could've gone mad in the Hospital Wing," stammered Ron.  
"You weren't going to; you're not a big maniac," giggled Harry.  
"Skip the teasing," moaned Ron, "what did you guys have today?"  
"Oh, you've missed a terrific lesson in Charms. We were dividing solid objects," acknowledged Harry, glad that Ron changed the subject himself.  
"Dull, keep on talking," yawned Ron, stretching his hands in the air.  
"McGonagall was talking about Metamorphagi today," tittered Harry, taking out his star chart and quill, "said that some of them used their power as camouflage when they were being chased by enemies. Sort of human chameleons, that's who they are."   
"What about old greasy Snape?" asked Ron, grinning.  
"The old hag was lecturing us about pre-N.E.W.T test that we had to write in March; he said they would decide if we should keep on taking all the subjects or drop some of them," explained Harry, loathing the idea of it.  
"The twit, we've got end of the year exams in June. That won't leave us much time to study," muttered Ron, curling his lips.  
"I bet you Hermione already started," laughed Harry, and began filling his star chart.

Harry was stuck in the last row. How the heck would Venus collide with Pluto to affect the solar systems of other worlds? He had to fill up the properties of Venus and Pluto. He also had to write a couple of lines about what type of future each of the planets indicated for wizard kind. The answer could be found in the textbook, but of course, Harry was too lazy to look it up.  
Suddenly, the Gryffindor common room was occupied by all the sixth years, in addition to Dennis Creevey. Harry had almost forgot how much time had passed by. It was already six thirty, and the sixth years were due in the Study Society meeting.

"Ok, everyone," spoke Hermione, standing on a chair so that she was able to see everyone, "gather around in a circle, and take out your assignments for today."  
Obediently, every sixth year scooted around in a circle, finding a perfect spot. Although Harry wasn't part of this study group, he liked watching them arguing about what to cover up first, how it's done, and what were the possible answers to each question.  
"First of all, we'll discuss the Charms homework," informed Hermione, as she laid her completed homework in front of her.  
"So, who came up with the idea of solid division anyway?" asked Neville, straight away.  
"Ok, who here knows who the nutter is?" interrogated Ron, for he didn't attend Charms today in addition to the following classes.  
"Found it, second line from chapter twenty one," yelled out Parvati Patil, "Luke the Second."  
"Excellent," claimed Hermione, "now go ahead and jot it down."  
Harry heard the soft noise their quills made as they drew the letters on the pieces of parchment.  
"In what century was that?" requested Dean, perplexed.  
"Found it as well," scoffed Parvati, "seventh century. Boy, the worms have eaten that fellow by now."  
Hermione directed them to write the answer Parvati yelled out, adding some information about the season in which it happened.  
"Allright, however did this charm help him with the escaped Hydra?" asked Ron, puzzled.  
"The answer could be found in the first page of chapter twenty one," muttered Seamus, "just read the fourth and fifth paragraph."  
"Good thinking, Seamus," spoke Hermione, beaming at everyone, "but I advise you to put it in your own words. Professor Flitwick will know who copied the answer straight of the book."  
Unluckily, Harry, who was isolated from the study group, heard that. Earlier today, when he was looking for the answer to that particular question, he didn't even try to paraphrase it. Instead, he copied it straight away. He did feel guilty a bit, but so what? In his opinion, he thought that deducting half a mark or one wouldn't make much difference…that's if he wrote down the bonus, and got it right.  
The third question was answered by Hermione herself, since no one was bright enough to remember what he or she saw during Charms. She told them about the difference a wrong wand wave could make with the size and shape of the two halves. Also, very smartly, she said that when a wizard comes to combine the two halves into one later, he would face some difficulty, and needed a more complex charm. Harry used that advantage, and secretly pulled out his Charms homework, and added that piece of information to the third question, although there was no much space left.  
Now came the exciting part, the bonus question.  
"This definitely needs some fueling for the mind," snarled Ron, waiting for Hermione to dictate them the answer.  
"Yeah, nothing in the book is mentioned about combining liquid and solid division into one," agreed Lavender Brown.  
"The same as her," lisped Dean, mystified.  
"Listen, why don't you suggest some facts, and then maybe we could combine them into one logical answer?" asked Hermione. "I haven't answered it myself, because I wanted to hear your opinions."  
"Well, we know that the wand movement differs," suggested Neville, but at first he hesitated.  
"We also saw that a pink beam of light separated the water in the tank into two parts," added Seamus.  
"While a blue beam of light surrounded the pebble, turned into smoke, and vanished," murmured Ron.  
"That wasn't hard, was it?" asked Hermione, satisfied by their ability to think. "All you need is to lay out the similarities and differences."   
"What else?" asked Neville, eager to get a full answer.  
"Oh, I know," spoke Seamus right away, "maybe the result will include that of liquid division and solid division."  
"Good idea," commented Hermione, "should we perhaps suggest a change in color of the beam, or how the object itself is going to be divided?"  
"Both, I suppose," tittered Ron.  
Harry had his eyes on his star chart, but his ears were carefully listening to the others' discussion.   
"So, what do you think will happen?" asked Parvati, wondering which color would appear.  
"I suggest that the beam of light will have the color of a rose," mouthed Dean, after thinking distinctly.  
"Possibly," agreed Hermione, "any other suggestions?"  
"Well," began Lavender, "maybe no explosion will be hear, but instead a drone."  
"Lavender, there aren't any bees inside the object," giggled Ron.  
"No Ron, Lavender could be right," agreed Hermione. Lavender stuck out her tongue for the embarrassed Ron.  
"Ok," continued Parvati, "will there be any smoke?"  
"There could be, but only a smattering of it," prattled Neville confidently.  
"Good guess," complimented Hermione, "what else do you reckon is going to happen?"  
For some moments, nobody answered, and Harry had stopped jotting down quick notes. He waited, but still, silence.  
"I think something will change, too," yelled out Lavender suddenly.  
"Yes?" asked Hermione, happy to get more possibilities.  
"If we're going to combine liquid division with solid division," Lavender went on, "then isn't significant that the charm changes? I mean the words."  
Everybody in the circle nodded, intrigued by such suggestion.  
"Brilliant!" quacked Hermione. "How about _Separatus Flugos_?"  
"A fairly good charm," commented Ron.  
"Allright," added Hermione, "now just write everything we've discussed briefly, and if another idea comes to mind, say it out loud, and I'll be happy to hear it."  
Immediately, the sixth year Gryffindors began writing on the parchments. The answer did seem a bit long, but they were hopeful to get some marks on it from Professor Flitwick.  
Secretly, after being such an eavesdropper, Harry used his quick notes to write a paragraph that indicated the change in the charm, and how it was actually performed. He had a cunning grin on his face, and knew that he should've joined the Study Society.

Hermione handed Dennis Creevey some more parchment about planning for the next meeting, and a copy of this homework so that by May, he will have completed a whole review package for everyone in the seven years.

After that, the sixth years were revising three chapters from their Transfiguration textbook. There were about forty three pages to go over thoroughly. Hermione, the incredible leader, asked them several question about misunderstandings, and focused on the major lessons they covered in class. With the help of the gossiping Lavender Brown, and Neville's sudden confident ability to participate, Hermione managed to write down a revision table that was required for memorizing. She also drew some Venn diagrams to compare and contrast Metamorphagi and Animagi. In addition to that, Ron reminded Hermione about the necessary usage of the mind in some spells that transfigured raccoons into otters, crows into doves, foxes into cats, canaries into ducks, and porcupines into eagles. Of course, she recorded everything she could remember, in addition to the points Ron mentioned.  
Finally, they were done revising that particular Transfiguration session, and Hermione handed what she just wrote to Dennis, trusting him to keep the notes somewhere safe.

And at five minutes after the eight o'clock hour, their meeting ended for today. Everyone was educated perfectly, and Ron was gratified that he suggested some vital points during the discussion.  
"You and Lavender would make up a good match," suggested Hermione, as she put her books and quill into her schoolbag.  
Ron was baffled of what she just said.  
"What do you mean we make up a good match?" asked Ron, bewildered.   
"Lavender interprets pictures and text, and combines them into one fine image. You, on the other hand, comment on everything we say and finish off somebody else's thought," explained Hermione, giggling at the pathetic Ron.  
"Do you mean I have a big mouth?" inquired Ron, his ears turning pink. "You clearly haven't seen yourself in the mirror, you big wide large mouth!"  
"Oh, so now I'm the gossiper? If it hadn't been for me, Ron, you would've failed every single subject!"  
Harry was alarmed by her arising voice. Out of nowhere, he stepped between them, and took out his wand.  
"End this argument," muttered Harry, "or I shall curse you into silence."  
"She's the one who started it," tittered Ron angrily.  
"He called me a big wide large mouth," claimed Hermione, glaring at Ron.  
"Look, just apologize to each other, and amicably, end this ridiculous argument," sighed Harry.  
"Sorry," mumbled Ron, out of the corner of his slips.  
"I accept your apology," mouthed Hermione, and carried her schoolbag away to her dormitory.

"Say Ron," purred Harry, "while you were sleeping, Hermione and I came up with an idea about how to rescue Fred and George."  
Ron raised his eyebrows, and a smile appeared slowly.  
"Go on," wailed Ron, "it's about time to hear a solution."  
"Here's what we planned," began Harry, rubbing his sweaty forehead, "we'll sneak out of the castle at night time, concealed under the Invisibility cloak. We'll use the cellar that I used in third year, to walk secretly into Hogsmeade. Of course, bringing the Marauder's Map would be essential. We'll sleep in that storage room still covered by the Invisibility cloak. When it's dawn, we set out to Hogsmeade, carefully, and approach your brothers' shop. First, it might be necessary to look through the window, just to explore where Dolohov's hiding, and the position of Fred and George. Then, one of us, possibly you, would charm something near the backdoor, to make it fall. If we're lucky, Dolohov will be attracted to that sudden movement, thinking that someone entered through the backdoor. While he's straightening up things, we quietly sneak through the front door. Then, if we are all ready, we stun him. Three stuns in the chest would be enough to diminish his strength. After that, we freeze him, and then tie him up with several thick ropes. If all goes right, we'll find Fred and George and rescue them, returning safely to Hogwarts."  
Ron was absolutely amazed by his best friends' thinking.  
"That's a fantastic adventure we'll be experiencing," cheered Ron, "but wait, once we tie up Dolohov, should we just keep him there?"  
Ron was sounding more like Hermione, now. He was brining up things that never occurred to Harry, and created some impediments in the future.  
"Well…we could just throw him off a cliff," giggled Harry. Ron laughed too.  
"No, really, what will we do with him?" interrogated Ron again.  
"We can't kill him, although he's a notorious murderer," hollered Harry.  
"Why can't we? He's a dirty nutter, that's who he is. He deserves to die. He murdered Prewetts, almost got us killed in the Department of Mysteries last year, and kidnapped my brothers!"  
"I know how you may feel Ron," confirmed Harry, "but if we kill him, we'll be nothing more than a bunch of murderers, just like he was."  
That was a reasonable comment.  
Hermione's footsteps were heard instantly, and she was scurrying down the stairs.  
"What's all the chitter-chatter about?" she asked curiously.  
"I was just informing Ron about our plan," declared Harry, "and he came up with another wonder that we would face. There must be some kind of telepathy between you two."  
Hermione giggled as she sat down on the armchair.  
"So, do you think it's good?" she asked Ron.  
"Not good, improbable! Fantastic thoughts you've got!"  
"Probably, you might as well be proud of us, right?" queried Hermione, grinning at him.  
"Um…yeah, sure I am. I told you previously, you two are life savers!" sang Ron.  
"I'm really eager to get this whole mess cleaned up," asserted Harry. "And to think, what will I do about June?"  
Hermione sighed at once. Harry looked at her, and then remembered that Ron had no idea about what they saw in the kitchens.  
"What? What's going to happen in June other than the end of the year exams?" questioned Ron.  
Harry and Hermione looked at each other.  
"What?" asked Ron again. "Is something wrong?"  
It seemed like Harry and Hermione were communicating with each other by their minds. Should they tell him, or perhaps not?  
"Ron, we've been hiding something from you," admitted Hermione, "we didn't want you to know at that point of time."  
"Go ahead, spit it out," demanded Ron.  
"Ron," muttered Harry, "one night, when you went to sleep, I saw something extraordinary traveling on the ceiling."  
Ron was getting even more curious.  
"It was a black shadow, taking the form of a wolf," added Hermione.  
"We decided to follow it out, as it was leaving the common room," mouthed Harry.  
"When we meandered around the dark corridors, we ended up in the kitchens, where Harry first saw the shadow," babbled Hermione.  
"We both lit our wands, and I had the sword of Anystal, the present Professor Lupin gave me when he visited me in summer," stammered Harry.  
"As we traveled around the murky kitchens, illuminated by my wand and Harry's sword, the sword pointed in different directions; it was acting like a compass," explained Hermione, slowing down.  
"My sword glowed yellow, as Professor Lupin had informed me, whenever danger was near," murmured Harry softly.  
"Then, suddenly, it was glowing yellow, and we knew for sure that the shadow was hovering only a few feet away from us," continued Hermione.  
"A green beam of light shot out of the sword, and brightened the wall," claimed Harry.  
"Outlined by bright light was the shadow itself," swallowed Hermione.  
"Then, it talked to us. It said that it wasn't harmful, and its job was to warn us," yelped Harry heavily.  
"The shadow explained how we were in danger of the last faithful creature Voldemort used," articulated Hermione solemnly.  
"He said that a wolf, by the name of the wolf of the eight floor, was present here, at Hogwarts," declared Harry quickly.  
Ron was skittish now, and kept on swallowing the lumps in his throat.  
"The wolf has arrived here from Dark Valley," uttered Hermione.  
"Wait a minute," shrieked Ron, "that's where the crows that attacked us came from!"  
"Precisely," responded Harry, "and then it explained about the powers that the wolf had."  
"It could suck souls out of the body," revealed Hermione.  
"It could freeze someone," mumbled Harry.  
Ron was breathing heavily now, scratching his head.  
"This is familiar," he pointed out, cleverly, "this wolf…it has the abilities of a Dementor and a basilisk."  
Harry and Hermione widened their eyes, surprised by Ron's notice.  
"That's a good point," lisped Harry. "Then, it gave us a final warning, and left."  
"It also instructed to depend on this sword, Anystal," indicated Hermione, pulling the sword out of Harry's large pocket.  
"You carry that with you all the time?" inquired Ron, as he saw the magnificent sword.  
"Yes, I couldn't be much warned, unless it's with me all the time," said Harry solemnly.  
"But that wolf…why hasn't it attacked anyone yet?" interrogating Ron.  
"Another good point," commented Hermione, "that shadow told us that currently, the wolf lies motionlessly on the floor of a deserted room on the eighth floor."  
"It won't arise until the dawn of the first of June," explained Harry.  
"When that time comes, one of them is going to defeat the other," notified Hermione.  
"Who's them?" asked Ron.  
"Voldemort…or me," spoke Harry.  
And by those words, Ron was completely disturbed.  
"All I can say is…. good luck, Harry," acknowledged Ron, sadly.  
"I have a bit of obliging news for you Ron," exclaimed Harry, grinning.  
"Really? What?"  
"Tomorrow we have Quidditch practice, and I thought of your wish coming true. We'll try out the Wronski Feint!"  
"Yes!" cheered Ron. "I've been longing for that!"  
Hermione smiled fervently at Ron.  
"Besides," spoke Hermione, "we've got another match coming up against Ravenclaw, and we must get back in shape."  
"True," agreed Harry and Ron.

"You know," began Ron, "our life is just extraordinary, right? We'll get to try the Wronski Feint; we plan on rescuing Fred and George, we're worrying constantly about those pre-N.E.W.T tests, and we're scared of that wicked wolf."  
Harry and Hermione nodded their heads.

Several of the Gryffindors were descending down the stairs, all ready to depart the common room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione just realized that it was dinnertime. And so, they left along with all the Gryffindors, heading to the Great Hall, their minds almost cracking up because of all the worries. It was just so overwhelming.


	32. A Remarkable Endeavour

32 (A Remarkable Endeavour)

Harry was already in the common room when the sun first rose behind the windows. He was awakening by some miserable nightmares about the past. They were following each other in a consecutive order. The cries of his mother while dying came first, and then Quirell was turning into rock and dying. Mrs. Norris was petrified, and so was Hermione. The dementors were gliding along to catch him, and he was desperate to perform one good Patronus that would vanish them all together. He was reliving the dream he had about Voldemort killing Frank Bryce, while Nagini and Peter Pettigrew watched in delight. He was shivering in his place, beginning to see the Death Eaters' arrival at Voldemort's father's grave. Cedric was dead, and Harry was left alone. Harry was then transported to the Department of Mysteries, along with his fellow friends. Sirius fell beyond the veil, as Bellatrix cruelly killed him…

The sight of those nightmares had a deadening effect on Harry by now, and he was used them. Again, he remorsefully regretted giving up Occlumency, even though Professor Snape refused him coming to his office for any more practice.

The common room was deserted, except for the solitary Harry sitting on the armchair beside the fireplace. Even though he was inches away from the warm flames of fire, he felt intense cold because of those nightmares that kept coming to his mind repeatedly. They were just incessant, and he couldn't stop them. Yet, he thought that sometimes, his dreams and nightmares would be intentional. But he never figured it out, at least not by himself.

Two hours have passed so long, and Harry heard a squelching noise coming from the boys' dormitory. It was none other than Ron, looking really tired. He had blackness under his eyes, and he staggered to the stairs.

"Good…morning," yawned Ron.

"Hello," responded Harry quietly, his ability to talk diminishing.

"Ready for…for today's…training, Harry?" inquired Ron, sleepily, as he headed to the bathroom.

"Not yet, but I will be," mouthed Harry, and stretched out his hands to get warmed by the fire.

Ron nodded, and went into the bathroom.

Again, Harry was left in solitude, peacefully.

Several moments later, he heard another sound. It came from the girls' dormitory. Hermione had clearly just waked up. At first, she didn't realize Harry was there, but then she saw a blur of him.

"Good morning," she tittered softly, beaming at him.

He smiled at her, knowing that his grin would be enough of a response. Simultaneously, he glanced dreamingly at her; she was wearing a cotton blue shirt, and a short skirt, which was emerald green. Harry was arising with love from the inside.

Momentarily, he climbed up the stairs, and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione delightfully kissed him back on his lips, and walked away to the bathroom. After that, he stepped into his dormitory to get changed.

As always, he took his pyjamas off, and wore his trousers. After that came his old messy white long sleeved shirt, and he secured all the buttons. Reluctantly, he put on his tie. Next came his old black jumper. Finally, he put on his heavy cloak, with the Gryffindor symbol shining yellow. Hastily, he wore his socks and shoes. Although he had loved to comb his messy hair, he knew that it would never lie flat.

Neville, Seamus, and Dean were just beginning to open their huge mouths to yawn. The first one to wake up was the energetic Dean. After him were Seamus, and then Neville.

Harry quickly said hello, and went down to the common room. It was now shined with the sun's brilliant rays, in addition to the glowing of the fire.

"I just can't wait till afternoon," spluttered Ron, excitedly.

"Calm down Ron, or you'll get a heart attack," commented Harry, not believing how eager Ron was to try the Wronski Feint. It was indeed a dangerous move, which no one but experts in the sport knew how to perform it carefully. Harry had a slight belief in himself, and thought hopefully that he'll be able to do it. He has always dreamed of it, ever since he saw Krum do it during the Quidditch World Cup. Gladly, he imagined himself being called by old Ludo Bagman, his voice magnified a hundred times, just to welcome Harry to the pitch. Nevertheless, Harry knew that mastering the Wronski Feint needed a lot of hard work, and unbelievable courage. Not only that, but what if his broom got broken into shreds? He had already lost his unforgettable Nimbus two thousand, when it accidentally got blown away to the Whomping Willow. He also lost his Firebolt, which happened to be a present from his dead godfather, when he gave it away to his love. The Firebolt X6, as Harry thought, would be his last hope. Three brooms in six years were too much, thought Harry.

The Great Hall of course was bustling with owls, here and there. Harry, Ron, and Hermione thought they saw an eagle owl, which happened to be the property of Draco Malfoy, land on his ungrateful arm.

"So, Harry," began Ron, "would you mind going over the plan once more?"

"What plan, Ron?" asked Harry, as he poured himself some juice.

"You know," whispered Ron, "tonight's plan…the rescue mission."

Harry grinned at Ron, and looked at him like he was looking at a newborn baby.

"Why are you so worried? You'll bring us all bad luck if you don't stop your wining," commented Harry, giggling.

"Harry's right, Ron," agreed Hermione, taking a bite out of some French toast, "don't get too excited."

"I have always wanted to save siblings," prattled Ron.

Harry and Hermione raised their eyebrows at him.

"So now you're joining us just for heroism?" asked Hermione, giggling.

"No I'm not! Look at Harry! He saved Ginny once, and saved your neck too!" mouthed Ron briskly.

"I didn't seek heroism when I saved Ginny, nor when I did save Hermione. I did it because I knew it would be my fault and responsibility if they die," muttered Harry.

"Yeah, whatever," interrupted Ron, "forget about this heroism part."

The sound of the bell shook around the castle, and sent everybody to their classes. Ron tentatively joined Harry and Hermione to class, because he would rather stay up all day thinking about a better plan than attending all the lessons. Nevertheless, it was inevitable to avoid classes, with the exception of being sick.

"Good morning everyone," yelled Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher.

"Good morning Professor Sprout," yelled everybody back.

"Now then," she spoke, "today, we shall be studying the effect of Spikatori on several creatures. "

Out of nowhere, she brought one dead ferret, one lizard, one dove, and one puppy.

"Oh look at the puppy," whispered Parvati Patil, "he's so cute."

"Yeah," agreed Lavender, "the only problem is that he'll get killed."

"Now pay attention," twittered Professor Sprout, "if I sting the dead ferret with this Spikatorus, what do you expect to see?"

Everyone student shot the other confused looks, indicating confusion. Not even Hermione knew the answer.

"Ah, I expected so," sighed Professor Sprout, "well, we'll just see what's going to happen, shall we not?"

Instantly, she grabbed the Spikatorus carefully, her fingers between the deadly poisonous spikes, and stung the dead ferret on its neck. Cruelly as a Spikatorus could be, it burned the ferret's skin, tearing it apart, revealing the flesh from inside. Everybody was disgusted, but at the same time, rather fascinated.

"See? A Spikatorus has the ability to melt the flesh, after secreting the venom inside of course. Now let's move on to the lizard."

The students were all watching with curious hungry eyes.

Professor Sprout, again, held the Spikatorus carefully and stung the lizard on its head. Momentarily, the lizard's skin was thickening and eventually dried up.

"The venom of a Spikatorus could cause a lizard a great deal of dehydration, as you can see," explained Professor Sprout, self assured.

"This is growing duller everyday," murmured Harry, "I don't think I'm going to study Herbology next year."

"Neither am I, the subject seems…um…old-fashioned," agreed Ron, revealing his viewpoint.

Hermione looked at the pair of them as though they were ridiculous.

"Look here Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley," yelled Professor Sprout, scaring the wits out of them.

She slowly bent the Spikatorus and stung the dove's head. Tiny icicles were forming around its eyes, and the beak was frozen. Soon, the whole body was frigid.

"Spikatori possess the quality of freezing birds," muttered Professor Sprout, moving on to the puppy.

"Not the puppy," spoke Parvati in grief.

Instantly, the Spikatorus stung its head, and within a heartbeat, the puppy was vaporized.

Parvati was weeping on Lavender's shoulder, which sympathetically patted her on the head.

Ron had an expression of loathing and disgust on his pale face.

After another wearisome forty five minutes, the class was finally dismissed. They had an awful experience killing animals themselves using the Spikatori. But Professor Sprout mentioned how vital learning aftermath of stings and bruises was.

"Hey, what are Crabbe and Goyle doing?" asked Ron, looking at the two behind greenhouse one.

"Let's go, quietly," instructed Harry, intrigued.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved on to greenhouse one, vigilant to not make a noise. They crept around the windows, and stuck their eyes beside the corner to glance at what Crabbe and Goyle were up to.

"Yeah, he'll love it," they hear Crabbe talking.

"Definitely, 'The Sorrowtuckle Champion', that'll be a fine name," wailed Goyle.

Hermione couldn't help giggling at the pathetic blokes, who existed to kind of worship Draco.

Crabbe and Goyle carried on their private conversation, and Harry thought he'd saw a gleaming badge sticking out of Crabbe's pocket.

"We'll have to polish it before giving it to him," carried on Goyle, "he wouldn't like a scratch."

Ron was exhilarated by their ridiculous idea, even though they did everything to support Draco.

"Let's move on," advised Hermione, as they were running out of time. They were due in Divination next. More specifically, Hermione had to flee to her Arithmancy class, Ron to Divination, and Harry to his own classroom.

"See you," mouthed Harry, as he left Hermione and Ron in the corridors, each one running to the classroom that awaited them.

Harry was teaching the second year Gryffindors and Slytherins a highly amusing lesson. He was introducing them to Boggarts, which was naturally mandatory on third years. Perhaps he thought of preparing them for the worst. Luckily though, he had seen a Boggart previously and learned how to react. At that time, his worst fear was, as Professor Lupin commented, fear itself. Whenever a Boggart approached him, it turned into a Dementor. Fortunately, Professor Lupin had consented to teach Harry a highly advanced charm, way beyond the knowledge of Ordinary Wizarding Level. It was called the Patronus Charm. To conjure the Patronus, Harry had to think of a happy memory, a memory that had a clear strong effect. Simply, he had to mutter "Expecto Patronum", and a white blinding flash of light was released from his wand. It usually drove the dementors away, avoiding being soul-sucked!

"Everyone, come with me," pointed out Harry, as he lead the students to the fifth floor. The entered a room that was deserted most of the time. What stood out in the empty room was a great big closet that was covered from bottom to top with dust.

"Stand back please," spoke Harry, and the immediately took some steps towards the back of the room.

"Listen, who here knows what Boggarts are?" asked Harry.

"They're shape shifters that turn into the thing we fear the most, yet no one knows how it really looks like," tittered Roberta Harrison.

Harry was amazed by her knowledge.

"Excellent! Five points to Slytherin, but if you don't mind Ms. Harrison, don't speak out of turn again," joked Harry.

She smirked at him, and he carried on explaining about Boggarts.

When everyone had a fairly good idea about the needed qualities for facing a Boggart, they stood in a straight line. There was a lot of pushing and nudging.

"Well then, are you ready?" inquired Harry, as he looked at the second year Gryffindor.

He hesitated at first, but then nodded and took out his wand.

"Alohomora!" muttered Harry, and the doors of the closet were sprung open instantly. Out of the closet, stepped a very strange creature Harry never saw before. It was made of flames!

The first year Gryffindor had wild eyes, and a terribly quick breath. The creature was coming nearer, spreading out what looked like hands.

"_Riddikulus!_" screamed the boy, and the creature was wearing pants with several hearts decorated on them.

Everyone let out laughs and applauded for the little Gryffindor. Harry cheered too, and giggled at the creature's humorous sight.

Next came an ambitious Slytherin girl, her wand held in a very firm grip.

She stood there for a moment, waiting for the creature to turn into her biggest fear. Instantly, the Boggart transformed into a very hideous mummy, with an eye patch.

"_Riddikulus!_" she screeched, and the mummy was playing hopscotch.

Harry laughed out louder than any other student in the room, incredibly tantalized by those people's worst fears.

Next in the line was a shy young Gryffindor, which looked no older than nine. He was shaking, and his wand nearly slipped out of his hand. He reminded Harry of Neville, the extremely forgetful boy, who's worst fear was weirdly Professor Snape.

The mummy was changing into a large vicious Hydra. The three heads were glancing cunningly at the young Gryffindor, who had no idea what was going to happen next. But Harry had faith in the little boy, and believed he could do it.

"Riddikulus!" squeaked the Gryffindor, and the Hydra instantly transformed into a clown.

"Well done!" complimented Harry, encouraging the frightened Gryffindor.

For the remainder of the time, the class had more exhilarating moments with the Boggart until Harry finally summoned it back into the closet. Then, they all headed back to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, all chattering about the cunning Boggart and the different sights they've witnessed.

"Splendid performance, everyone! Fifteen points to Gryffindor and Slytherin!" mouthed Harry.

The Gryffindors and Slytherins felt like kissing him.

The class was dismissed, and Harry gathered his books and left his classroom.

"I had fun teaching them about Boggarts," admitted Harry, as he found Ron and Hermione.

"Boggarts? For second years?" interrogated Ron, puzzled.

"It's not appropriate for their age Harry," commented Hermione.

"Well, they need some preparation. Their fears were childish…what about when they grow up? At least they know the basics by now," continued Harry.

"Anyway, Hermione and I were thinking of a plan," burbled Ron.

"Don't tell me it's about tonight," sighed Harry.

"No, not at all," declined Hermione, grinning.

"We've been thinking about a possible way to screw up things for Malfoy," talked Ron proudly, "and we thought of designing a badge, having written on it 'Hail Malfoy, the Sorrowtuckle loser'."

"What?" Harry was giggling.

"It's a payback for what he's done in the past," muttered Hermione, "Ron suggested adding 'slimy' just before 'loser', but I told him there won't be any space left."

"That's a perfect amusing idea. Wait till you see the look on Malfoy," chuckled Harry.

"We'll use the badges Crabbe and Goyle design, of course after stealing them, and change the words on them. Just picture Malfoy's face when receiving the badges from his cronies," mentioned Ron.

"Look, here they come," whispered Hermione, pointing to the direction of the astronomy tower. Crabbe and Goyle were right behind Draco, following him to the dungeons.

"Let me do it," chuckled Harry, and he moved forward, hiding behind a wizard statue.

"Quick, summon the badge sticking out of that gorilla's pocket," murmured Ron, laughing quietly. Hermione watched in delight as Harry deftly summoned the badge, unobtrusively.

"_Accio badge_!" he muttered, and within seconds, the badge that Crabbe and Goyle planned to work on, was rushing in the air towards Harry. He caught it with his hand, and gave it to Hermione.

"Brilliant!" she spoke, excitedly.

"The two pea-brains didn't even notice it," mouthed Ron, and then they walked to the dungeons, fearing the next lesson, Double Potions.

At lunch, Harry met Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker. She had a fairly small talk with him, but didn't go into deep things that Harry dreaded. She had pointed out that the Ravenclaw team was getting better, and the training was much more intense. They had their Quidditch match in two weeks, and Harry was stunned how time flew by so quickly.

"So, how did it go?" asked Ron, giggling, as Harry sat down on the bench.

"What? Cho? It was good. She was just reminding me about the match we've got," he wept honestly.

"And?" asked Ron again. "Nothing came up?"

"What would you expect him to say, Ron?" inquired Hermione, annoyed. "Their relationship is over, ever since last year."

"How do you know all this?" interrogated Ron, watching Hermione suspiciously.

"Because I know it," claimed Hermione earnestly, "you've seen the way she cried every time Harry did something heroic or amazing. It always reminded her of Cedric."

"Anyway, it's like Hermione said. Cho's just another friend," admitted Harry.

Hermione nodded in agreement, as she placed some fried chicken in her plate.

"But Harry, she kissed you!" tittered Ron, still grinning at his mate. "And you were in love! How can you end it so easily?"

Harry was breathing heavily now, and Hermione was worried that he'll accidentally mention their secret.

"Ron…um…I'd rather not talk about it, let's eat for now," murmured Harry.

Hermione was relieved.

"Well, do you have your eye on someone else?" interrogated Ron, looking sideways at Hermione.

"Ron, just shut up!" snapped Hermione. He was alarmed, and silenced at last.

"Hey, what's Colin doing?" asked Harry, as his eyes caught attention.

Colin Creevey had his camera out, and he was taking photographs of Lavender Brown.

"Hey, what is he really doing?" wondered Ron, and moved across the table to discover.

"Hello Ron," tittered Colin, "I'm taking pictures for students of the month."

"Students of the what?" asked Ron, perplexed.

"It's for the Study Society," whispered Colin, "hasn't Hermione Granger told you?"

"No, she always keeps secrets from me," claimed Ron, "but what is all this about, really?"

"Our leader, Hermione Granger, has decided that each month one male and female students were supposed to be awarded for their analytical thinking and reasoning, in addition to normal participation in discussions. So, two were chosen personally be her. And as you can see, the female students is Lavender Brown…"

"And who's the male one?" interrupted Ron.

"Um…it's…erm...you!" mouthed Colin, beaming at his face.

Ron got a strange look on his face, as though he hadn't realized what was just said.

"Me?" asked Ron.

"Yes, you," came Hermione's voice.

"You chose…me?" inquired Ron, amazed.

"I told you that you'll be a great match with Lavender," she spoke solemnly, smiling at him.

"But…"

"But nothing Ron," declared Colin, "come here and let me take your picture."

Ron moved and stood in the aisle between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin house-table. Colin adjusted his camera so that Ron's face could fit inside the frame.

A flash, and his photo was taken.

Ron felt dizzy a bit, because of the light.

"Now, Lavender," muttered Hermione, "if you would please come here, and stand beside Ron."

She moved obediently, curious about Hermione's order.

"A group picture…well, not really a group," joked Colin, and he lifted his camera to his eye level. Ron was standing upright beside Lavender; she smiled at the camera, and so did he. Another flash, and it was done.

"That wasn't difficult to do, was it?" asked Hermione, beaming at them.

"Good job Ron," Lavender offered her compliment to him.

"Uh…thanks, congratulations!" he replied.

"Thank you," and she scurried away to join Ginny and Parvati.

"Great job, Ron," spoke Harry, as another bite of spaghetti entered his mouth.

It was as if Ron became an instant celebrity. He had already been famous for one milestone; that's when old Sirius, as Ron thought, tried to attack him with his long knife.

Finally, the school day was over, and everybody was extremely tired.

"Listen, we've got a meeting for seventh years, Study Society, and then…" began Hermione.

"And then we'll practice the Wronski Feint," reminded Ron.

"I was going to say that we'll once more plan the escape," whispered Hermione.

"Yeah, but first, we'll try the Wronski Feint, right Harry?"

"Sure," he answered, and tired as he was, he began to write his Transfiguration homework. He took off his shoes, which were becoming tight due to the growth of his feet, to recline. He placed a thick pillow on his lap, and laid parchment on it.

Meanwhile, Hermione was knitting some hats for S.P.E.W, and Ron was finishing off his late History of Magic homework. Of course, he needed help from Hermione. Nevertheless, she decline, and though about knitting some hat, since it was a long time since she last did.

"The house-elves are going to report this for Dumbledore one day, you'll see, Hermione," spoke Ron, exasperated.

"What's more essential, Ron, is that they learn that they have a value in the community of wizard kind, and we should treat them kindly, and give them appropriate wages," explained Hermione, using her trite explanation.

Ron gave up convincing her to stop this ridiculous S.P.E.W business, because he always knew that she was obsessed with elfish rights.

Around five o'clock, the seventh year Gryffindors congregated in the common room. Hermione had just finished knitting the ninety-ninth hat when they began arriving, and that reminded her of the time. Dennis Creevey woke up from his short nap, and took out his quill to record notes during the meeting. Neville, the messenger, was already sitting on the couch, waiting for the meeting to begin.

"Allright, all of you, sit in a circle," instructed Hermione, as she too joined them on the floor. "So, what first?"

"Well, we've got this Transfiguration homework that seems to be dreadful," spoke Kevin Slimshard.

"Yeah, McGonagall is really toughening thing up for us," mouthed another seventh year, Sara Triksley.

"Ok, well, take it out first, and then we'll talk about it," talked Hermione, and she was glancing at the pieces of parchment.

Harry was nearly finished with his own Transfiguration homework when they started the detailed discussion. It was clear that Hermione had some new things to learn, which would easily prepare her for next year. She was always excited and eager to learn something new.

It so happened that Harry was stuck on the question before the last.

"Hermione?" asked Harry, and she immediately turned her head away from the seventh years.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I was wondering," he began, looking at the question, "how is transfiguring plants related to that of solid non-living things?"

"Well, you'll have to mention that the wand movement is similar, and the incantation used in plant transfiguration doesn't include the last letter in that of transfiguration of non-living thing, and what else? Oh, they both change into animals most of the time," explained Hermione. Harry had copied her explanation word-by-word, grateful for her help.

"Thanks for helping me out," commented Harry, but Hermione has already turned her head back to the seventh years' discussion.

Finally, the meeting was over, and it was a short one. It only took fifty-eight minutes to truly understand the content within the homework. As usual, Hermione had her own copy of notes, and handed them to Dennis Creevey, collecting them into one huge portfolio.

The seventh years were heading back to their dormitories, and they were all exhausted.

"Ok, sixth years," began Hermione, and then she noticed Ginny, "and you Ginny. Let's get changed."

"For what?" asked Ginny curiously, chewing a Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans.

"Quidditch practice of course," replied Hermione, as she, Harry, and Ron walked out of the door, "meet you in the changing rooms."

"Oh, I forgot my broom," mentioned Harry, and summoned his Firebolt X6.

"Good point, Harry," muttered Ron, and he summoned his Cleansweep. Apparently, following Hermione around to wherever she went made them forget about bringing the broomsticks.

When they stepped outside, the sky was dark and murky. Several raindrops were starting to fall down, and the clouds were so thick. There stood the Quidditch pitch, stained by the raindrops.

"Allright," spoke Harry, riding his broomstick, "let's fly!"

Instantly, every member mounted their broom, and soared in the air behind Harry.

Hermione had recently polished her Firebolt, which was originally Harry's, and was disappointed that it was going to get soaked with rain.

"Now listen up!" yelled Harry, as he was hovering sixty feet above the ground. "We'll first practice some old moves, for the chaser, beater, and keeper positions."

Harry had the Quaffle in his hand, and he instantly threw it up in the air. Hermione, Neville, and Ginny hurried up on their brooms to catch it.

"Lavender! Parvati! Try to stop them, and grab the Quaffle!" shouted Harry, with Ron by his side.

He watched carefully as Hermione deftly passed around the two beaters, and headed to the goalpost. She had raised her hand, aiming at the opening, but Parvati snatched it out of nowhere. Hermione, accompanied by Neville and Ginny, soared using her Firebolt to the far end of the Quidditch pitch. Cleverly, Ginny stood in Lavender's way, turning right and left following her move. She stretched out her hand, but slipped off her broomstick. Here was where Harry got worried, but luckily, she got back on.

Lavender intended to pass the Quaffle to Parvati, but Hermione had already caught it. She was accelerating with her magnificent Firebolt, heading towards the lower left goalpost. Instantly, Lavender chased her around. Hermione purposefully dropped the Quaffle. Clumsy Neville caught it, although he was going to drop it with his cold shaky hands any moment. That move attracted Lavender, and she flew downwards.

"Neville! Throw it up!" it was Hermione's sharp voice, instructing Neville to throw the Quaffle back to her.

Hermione immediately received the Quaffle, and turned around in a circle, flying directly to the goalpost. Lavender needed help from Parvati, who was unfortunately being chased by Ginny.

"Look at her go," commented Ron, sitting calmly on his Cleansweep. Harry had a feeling in his heart that Hermione was going to score a goal anytime now. And indeed, he was correct.

Neville and Ginny gave her a thumbs-up, and patted her on the shoulders.

"Great move, Hermione," spoke Harry and Ron together.

"Thank you," she replied, pulling her hair backwards.

"Now, as you saw, that trick of dropping the Quaffle and then receiving it momentarily by the teammate can be helpful. It distracts the opposing player, and that's its purpose," explained Harry.

"We'll try out the Wronski Feint after we're done with beater training," sighed Harry, and Parvati and Lavender returned to their positions. Ginny was right behind them, and so was Neville.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had two Bludgers in their grips, and the one Quaffle. They took turns in trying to score goals, or more likely, having a go at Neville and Ginny, unintentionally of course.

Parvati and Lavender were totally lost. Each time Harry threw a Bludger, they were disturbed. They didn't know to which corner they would move. Of course, the trio scored many goals. Luckily, Lavender saved three of them.

"Now, the purpose of this training was to help you concentrate on corners," began Harry, as he put the Bludgers and Quaffle in the cart he summoned from the ground, "always look at the front. From the corner of your eyes, you could see the direction of movement of your opponent. It's also necessary to focus on the middle goalpost."

The rain was getting heavier, and their vision was impaired.

"_Impervius_!" muttered Harry, as he made his glasses waterproof. "Right then, we'll continue with the keeper training. Ron, if you would take your position."

Ron nodded his head, and flew to his goalpost, hovering in front of the left goalpost.

"We'll take turns into scoring the Quaffle, one at a time. Try different techniques if you would; let's get Ron puzzled," stammered Harry, and they all felt like laughing but the cold weather didn't allow them to.

First was Neville. He grabbed the Quaffle and straight away flew downwards to the right goalpost. He raised his fist, and shot the Quaffle perfectly. However, Ron was too clever for him. He moved beforehand, and managed to push the Quaffle away, inches before it penetrated the circular opening.

"Nice try Neville," commented Ron, and threw the Quaffle back upwards. It landed in Parvati's hands, which were very wet. She held the Quaffle carefully, and was circling around Ron, who intended to snatch the Quaffle. Of course, that was her biggest opportunity to score a goal, and that's what she did.

"Never leave the goalposts, Ron!" shouted Harry.

"Sorry," he apologized, and got hold of the Quaffle. He then threw it upwards, as the wind helped. Next in the queue was Lavender.

She moved deftly on her broomstick in a zigzag, creating some sort of diversion. She was aiming for the right goalpost, where Ron was safely guarding it. For a moment, he was assured that the Quaffle was coming his way. Cunningly, though, Lavender shot the Quaffle at the upper middle post, and scored another goal.

"Ron, I told you before. Keep hovering in front of the middle post, you should know from the opponent's movements where he or she is heading," prattled Harry.

"How should I have known? She was moving in a zigzag!" and he chased after the falling Quaffle, throwing it afterwards to Harry.

Harry was next in line. At first, he ascended twenty more feet to the level where Ron couldn't see him, and had to squint in order to see a blur of him. Quickly as he was, he rushed with his Firebolt X6, his hand stretched straight forward, holding the Quaffle. He was going to crash into Ron, if had approached anymore, but luckily turned to a corner. With him turned Ron. His eyes were following Harry's broom. Immediately, Harry scored another goal.

Ron held his hand up to stop Harry lecturing him, and caught the Quaffle.

Last but not least was Hermione. She grabbed the Quaffle, and flew directly to the middle post. Ron realized that it must've been some kind of a trick. Nevertheless, he did as Harry told him so, and hovered in front of the middle post. Hermione was nearing him. And then, she did something remarkable. Hermione stood up on her Firebolt, as if she were riding a skateboard. Her left hand was hidden behind her back, and her right hand was stretched out to gain some balance. Ron was ready for her. Strangely, she pulled out her left hand, but there was no Quaffle. Ron had already prepared for it, and automatically flew forward to catch it. Then, when he turned around, he saw the Quaffle landing in Hermione's fist. The whole team was intrigued; Hermione had shot the Quaffle ten feet in the air, creating a diversion so Ron would think that she had the Quaffle behind her back. Instantly, she threw it right into the middle post.

"Fantastic move, Hermione," commented Harry, beaming at her.

"You tricky little…" began Ron, furious with her.

"Allright, Ron has been currently reminding me about something you might find interesting," spoke Harry, grinning at Ron, "get ready to learn the Wronski Feint, everyone," mouthed Harry. The whole team turned their heads to him, with the exception of Ron and Hermione.

"What?" asked Neville, amazed.

"Seriously?" inquired Lavender.

"No way!" shrieked Parvati.

"Cool," muttered Ginny.

"Ok, listen, the Wronski Feint is considered a dangerous seeker diversion," explained Harry confidently, "it needs the seeker to be free in moving his or her broom, and almost weightless."

They were looking at him, mystified by this introduction.

"Sometimes in matches, you see two seekers fighting struggling to catch the snitch," twitted Harry, "but the real thing is that one seeker didn't actually see the snitch; he just wanted the other seeker to copy him."

The teammates were nodding their head, vaguely understanding what he was talking about.

"Now, if you've attended the Quidditch World Cup two years ago, you would've witnessed the Bulgarian seeker, Victor Krum, doing it. And he was lucky to not crash into the ground," talked Harry briskly, his hair moving frequently as the wind blew over it.

"But how is it really performed?" asked Neville, excited about learning some advanced stuff.

"Well, what naturally happens is that one seeker is diving more than fifty feet, at the highest speed possible. Usually, the seeker feels weightless, and controls the balance on the broomstick. Just before hitting the ground, the seeker deftly manages to stop the broomstick and fly upwards," pointed out Harry. He could've sworn that Ron was itching to just do it.

"Harry, are you sure we're capable of doing the Wronski Feint?" asked Hermione, her face soaked with water.

"Well, it might be tough because you're not seekers, but at least you could give it a try," he continued, grinning at Ron.

Harry flew up several feet, and so did the rest of his teammates.

"I'll let the snitch out, and let's just hope it would fly to the ground," twined Harry, "if we're lucky, I could show you a demonstration."

Instantly, he took the snitch out of his pocket, and released it in the air. It sprung out its wings, and disappeared from their sights. It was almost impossible to locate the snitch in such terrible weather.

"Here it is, it's flying downwards," pointed out Hermione, as she caught a glimpse of gold hovering beneath her.

"Harry, have you ever tried the Wronski Feint?" asked Parvati, worried about the outcome.

Harry turned to her, his broomstick carrying him away.

"No, this'll be my first try," chuckled Harry, and soon, he fired away his Firebolt X6, and within heartbeats, they saw him soar in the air, following the snitch.

From afar, they discerned his moves, and eventually descended to have a closer watch. Harry was stretching out his hand, as the snitch moved further and further away from him.

"He's going to crash!" shouted Ron, his eyes wide squinting.

"No doubt!" commented Neville, who moved further downwards.

But they were all wrong. Harry luckily managed to turn aside his broom, half a second before he could've hit the floor. He knew that crashing after diving such a steep slope would've ruined his broomstick, fracturing it into bits. As soon as Harry turned to a corner, he was already heading back up again, and his finger tips were millimeters away from the golden snitch. Fortunately, he caught it and flew back.

"He did it! He did it!" cried Hermione, and without any warning, she hugged Ron tightly.

Harry flew the thick clouds, and resisted the frosty wind pushing against his face. He arrived happily, waving the snitch in his hand.

"That was incredible Harry," commented Lavender.

"Really amazing," added Ron.

"I was astounded that you succeeded from the scratch of it," babbled Hermione, and gave him a fervent hug.

"Thank you all," spoke Harry, beaming, as Hermione flew away from him. "Now, as you just saw, the Wronski Feint move needs a lot of work and effort put into it. It requires following the snitch, as if you were following a once-in-a-lifetime chance of winning a million galleons."

"That was really clever of you Harry," interrupted Ron, "I just couldn't believe how you got to avoid crashing an instant before stopping your broom."

"It's the magic within the Firebolt X6, Ron," tittered Neville, giggling.

"Well then, anyone cares to try it out?" asked Harry, watching the uncertain faces.

"Not in this weather, I couldn't," gossiped Ginny. Of course, Harry didn't force anyone to do it, and understood Ginny's excuse.

"Anyone at all?"

"I'll do it, but I'll have to have an opponent in order to carry out the process correctly," chattered Hermione, wiping off some raindrops.

"Grand!" commented Harry, humorously. He had the snitch in his palm, and agreed to be Hermione's opponent.

They took off, and their brooms were soaring in the wet air, chasing the quick snitch. Harry was just Hermione, and they were only a yard away from each other. The acceleration of there brooms was near, but the Firebolt X6 was inevitably faster than the old Firebolt.

Through the rain they ventured with their broomsticks, and into the foggy clouds they penetrated. The snitch was frequently changing its position, and Harry and Hermione were flying in a circle after it. It was really difficult to avoid bumping into the opponent's backside, and concentrating on the snitch's direction at the same time. Now, Hermione was just about to stretch out her hand, when the snitch, yet again, spun around and turned to the left. She was flying upwards again and Harry in the opposite direction, using it as a shortcut. Here the moment came…Hermione was descending faster than ever, so desperate to catch the snitch, but Harry was right behind her. He was diving dangerously, his acceleration increasing rapidly. Easily, he stopped the flow of his broomstick, and grabbed the snitch. Poor Hermione; she closed her eyes, and began to shout in fear. She thought of the inevitability of crashing into the wet grassy ground. Paradoxically, she found herself hovering safely above the ground, her feet dangling off her broomstick.

"You did it, Hermione," giggled Harry, stunned, "I caught the snitch, but you did it…you performed the Wronski Feint clearly and sharply!"

She a fleeting smile on her face, and didn't believe her sudden success. She never expected to do it correctly, not even using Harry's unforgettable Firebolt. Up they went, and their teammates were awaiting them.

"That was extraordinary, Hermione," complimented Ginny, clapping for her.

"Brilliant…but the snitch is in Harry's hand," muttered Ron.

"He caught the snitch…but he says I did it…I actually ventured by peforming the Wronski Feint," chuckled Hermione, breathing in deeply.

"Now, are you satisfied Ron?" inquired Harry, placing the snitch carefully in his pocket, assuring that it wouldn't fly off.

"Not entirely," disagreed Ron, "I wanted to have a go at it myself."

"I suppose next week, Ron," yelped Harry, "I think this is enough for today."

"He's right; I'm tired," mentioned Hermione, and she was holding on tightly to her broom, as if she was frozen, and adjoined it.

A few moments later, all the members found their way back to the changing rooms, and changed back into school uniform.

"I'm very proud of you Hermione," murmured Harry quietly, "you did your best, and succeeded in accomplishing the most intricate and difficult move a seeker has ever faced!"

"Thanks Harry," she responded, and hugged him. "If it hadn't been for you, I would've never done it."

"Why are you always saying that? I know you're independent, and practically can accomplish any goal you set," prattled Harry, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"I know, Harry," she smiled, "but you were always by my side to encourage me, and motivate me."

He turned speechless, and felt happiness in his heart instantly.

Fifteen minutes later, the Gryffindor returned back to their dormitories, after running into Hagrid, and chatting with him about some Nifflers he found loose around the greenhouses. Harry sat on the old armchair next to the fire, relaxing his rigid feet. Hermione was totally exhausted that she didn't even discuss anything, but instead, dropped herself directly to the couch. Ginny, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender couldn't bear staying up for any longer, and thought of taking a limited short nap. The oddball in that occasion was Ron. He was still disappointed that Harry didn't leave him to try the Wronski Feint. Ron kept babbling some rubbish about Harry being selfish and arrogant, and over confident. Harry, of course, ignored Ron's complaints. Yet, Harry was dreading the next three hours. After having dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were due to carry out their secret plan. They have planned on rescuing Fred and George, and they meant to do it. Without another word, Harry shut his eyes, disturbed by the fire's flames, and dozed off.


	33. Deceived, Trapped, and Rescued

33 (Deceived, Trapped, and Rescued)

At last, the students arrived at the Great Hall, the fabulous feast waiting for them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had sat down beside Neville, Ginny, and many other Gryffindors. The roast chicken had a magnificent smell that acted like a magnet to Ron. He was sniffing it, rather than tasting it.

Over by the teachers' table, Harry thought he saw Professor Snape babbling with Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. He was wondering whether Professor Snape was up to something nasty with the students.

"Harry, go ahead and eat," muttered Hermione, sticking her fork into some lamb chops.

"I wonder what Snape's talking about," he mouthed, and squinted his eyes to at least lip-read what the slimy grease-ball was speaking.

"Never mind that old hag, eat now," sputtered Ron, spitting out some chicken. Dean was disgusted, and so was Seamus.

"Ron's right, Harry," murmured Hermione earnestly, "you're going to need your strength for tonight."

"Oh," moaned Harry, as he remembered their quest for tonight. It was definitely going to be difficult and wearisome. Sneaking past Argus Filch and Seveus Snape wasn't easy of a task. It needed care and vigilance. Of course, something else was at their side. Actually two: the Invisibility Cloak, and the brilliant Marauder's Map.

Nearly Headless Nick was having a little conversation with the Bloody Baron, who was beside the Slytherin house-table. He was babbling about the way Peeves had previously played pranks on his unbelievable uncle, Gadzy. The Bloody Baron was disappointed of Peeve's poor behavior, and was enraged because Uncle Gadzy was one of his closest friends. Nevertheless, it didn't make any difference. What happened had happened, and Peeves was glad that his Uncle Gadzy left Hogwarts. It's been quite a while since all the students witnessed Peeves throwing some pepper at his uncle's eyes, and boy, how Draco was fascinated.

"Say Harry," began Ron, chewing on the steak, "when are we going to leave?"

"Ron, would you just shut your mouth? Don't rush, everything will go smoothly if stop babbling," Ron had clearly received some kind of scolding from Harry.

Hermione was giggling under her nose, staring at her plate. Harry had a point, because Ron has turned into the world's biggest gossip in the past two days.

At the end of the feast, there was an amusing recital being played by a talented chorus from fourth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Several boys were playing the bass, and the other ones were playing the drums. All the girls were singing with a sharp, high-pitched voice that nearly knocked Harry out. Eventually, they were done, and all the teachers along with the students were clapping.

Everyone was moving back to the dormitories by now, all stuffed up with food.

"Did you see that little girl from Ravenclaw? Did you see how wide her mouth was opened?" giggled Ron. Harry and Hermione had also noticed that girl. She was so emotional towards music that she closed her eyes, and began screaming in the most terrible noise rather than singing in a perfect harmonic tone.

"Slinkhart!" yelled out Parvati Patil, and the portrait of the Fat Lady opened instantly, letting every Gryffindor in.

The majority of them were all squeezed in lines, climbing up the stairs. Poor Neville, he was beginning to retch, due to the tremendous amount of food he ate. His friends were lucky that he didn't vomit on the carpets.

"Harry, Ron, come here," called Hermione, as she invited her best friends down on the ground.

She made sure that every other Gryffindor was inside the dormitories, and then took out a badge.

"Oh, I nearly forgot about that," prattled Ron, as he remembered he joke they were going to play on Draco Malfoy.

"What's that we said we were going to write again?" inquired Harry.

" 'Hail Malfoy, the Sorrowtuckle loser'," burst Hermione, laughing quietly.

Harry was grinning at the two. He was reading what was written on the badge, giggling. 'The Sorrowtuckle Champion', was too much for an arrogant slimy, dirty, stuck up brat like Draco.

Hermione took out her wand, and with a wave, the arrangement of letters was change, in addition to some other words. The letters moved around on the badge, and Harry and Ron were grinning at it.

'Hail Malfoy, the Sorrowtuckle loser', it read now. Ron fell to the floor, wriggling like a flobberworm.

"When should we return it?" interrogated Harry, still laughing his wits out.

"Tonight," replied Hermione, tears of laughter gliding down her cheek, "before our departure from Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, and read the badge one more time.

It really was amusing to do such thing to Draco. After all, he's been the greatest source of loathing, hatred, and nuisance for the past six years. From the very first moment he saw Ron, he hated him as much as he hated dead rats. Draco always made fun of Ron's condition with his family. Also, he loathed Hermione more than anything else, for being a mudblood. No need to mention how cunning he was when he tricked Harry in first year, inviting him to the midnight duel, which he never came to. It was also quite silly, the way he imitated the dementors in third year. And much more of him has been seen by innocent students, who thought of his actions unbearable. Thanks to Ron and Hermione, they came up with a fine retribution. So far, Crabbe and Goyle had such a disposition with Draco. However, if things went right, they're going to be in big trouble with him.

From the talking Harry, Hermione, and Ron did, they hadn't noticed the time. It passed so quickly that they didn't even feel it pass by. It was ten thirty, and by now, almost all students should be tucked in their beds.

"It's time," whispered Hermione, "let's go."

They all got up, ready to leave, but Harry remembered something.

"Wait right here, I'll get two necessary things we'll need on the way," muttered Harry, and ran with footsteps of an ant to his dormitory. Dean, Seamus, and Neville were all rolling around their beds, trying to adjust and fall to sleep. They were so busy trying to recline that they didn't hear Harry come in. As quick as an eagle, Harry took out the Marauder's Map, and carefully held the Invisibility Cloak.

He ran down the stairs within a flash of a second, his wand tucked in his pocket, and of course, the sword of Anystal well hidden under his clothes.

Ron had an effective expression when he glanced at the Marauder's Map. His own trapped brothers, Fred and George, were the ones who offered it to Harry in third year. Although he hated them for never letting him have it, he forgot about that, and was ready to risk any chances, so that in the end, they'll be free again.

"Got everything Harry?" asked Hermione. "Wand? Anystal? Invisibility Cloak? And the Marauder's Map?"

"I've got them all here," pointed out Harry, as the three of them covered themselves with Harry's cloak. Ron, ever since last year, has reached the length where it was vital for them to kneel down a bit so that his large feet wouldn't show.

Out of the door they stepped, surprising the Fat Lady, who was snoring. She looked around, but no sign of anyone. Eventually, she went back to her sleep.

They were creeping along the corridors, quiet as tigers. They were lucky to find Crabbe and Goyle wandering outside the Great Hall. It was a wonder why no prefect or head-boy, or even a teacher told them off.

"Ready Hermione?" asked Harry beneath the cloak.

"You bet," she whispered, and took out the badge. The letters were shining brilliantly, all messily written like Crabbe's writing.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" muttered Hermione, and instantly, the badge was hovering in the air. She made sure it would reach Crabbe's pocket in the right time, because she didn't fancy the idea of chasing after them. Fortunately, the badge zoomed through the air and fell into Crabbe's pocket. He felt something drop in, which made him look up at the ceiling. But nothing of course.

"I just can't wait till I see Malfoy's angry face," giggled Harry.

"Where should we go now?" asked Ron. "Oh, yeah, the One-Eyed-Witch statue!"

"Keep your voice down, Ron, we don't want to be heard," whispered Hermione.

Harry lit his wand, and read the Marauder's Map. Professor Snape was having a conversation with Professor McGonagall and the headmaster in his office. That reminded Harry of the same sight he saw at the feast. Argus Filch was currently patrolling the grounds, and Mrs. Norris was sleeping in his office. So, that indicated that the three were safe.

At last, the One-Eyed-Witch stature came to their sight, and they carefully approached it. Harry stretched out his wand, tapped the hump on her backside, and muttered "Dissendium". Immediately, it was opened.

"Come on, move it Ron," murmured Hermione, and suddenly, she sensed something brush against her ankle. She was so terrified that it could be a teacher.

"Crookshanks? What are you doing here?"

"Never mind him now," interrupted Ron. But it was too late. Crookshanks was already meowing, and soon he was heard by Mrs. Norris. She was scurrying between the corridors, following the sound.

"Oh great," whispered Harry, "the red eyed bossy cat meets Hermione's nosey beast."

From under the cloak, Hermione's eyes glared at him.

"Sorry," said Harry, and watched as Crookshanks had a fight with Mrs. Norris. Their claws were striking at each other.

"Crookshanks!" muttered Hermione, desperately wanting to reach out for him and kick him to the common room. It went on and on, and soon, Crookshanks cleverly hit Mrs. Norris on her bloody eyes, which made her scram away.

"That was brilliant!" commented Ron, having enjoyed the cat show.

"No it wasn't, if there was a teacher, we could've got busted by now," snapped Hermione, and she reached down for Crookshanks, but he ran away, fearful of Mr. Filch arriving soon.

"That's a good boy," claimed Harry, grinning, "come now, we're supposed to move in."

Obediently, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved in, and were confirmed that the stature closed itself.

"It's dark in here," claimed Ron, "I wonder if there are any spiders."

"Lumos Maxima!" sighed Harry, as he lit his wand to the maximum power. Hermione had to cover her eyes.

They were walking up some stairs, and each step seemed deeper than the other.

"Aren't we ever going to arrive?" inquire Hermione, catching on to her breath.

Harry thought he had heard a noise coming from the floor.

"AAAAAH! SPIDER!" yelled Ron, which forced Hermione to cover his mouth. The spider terrifyingly was dangling from its web, which had a butterfly trapped in it. Ron was so vexed that his whole body was shaking terribly.

"For God sake Ron, it's only a spider," declared Harry, and pointed his wand at the creepy spider.

"Arania Egsumay!" he muttered, and immediately, the spider was vanished with a brilliant beam of blue light.

"Thanks," burbled Ron, calming down after he saw the spider disappear.

Finally, they reached a dead end. However, as Harry has been here before in his third year, he knew that there was a trapdoor just above him that would lead him to the cellar of Honeydukes.

Clearly, the door was hard to push up. Definitely, there was some merchandise on top of it.

"Push…harder," spoke Harry, as Ron and Hermione helped push the door up.

At last, the door was opened, and Harry saw some dim light.

"Welcome to the Honeydukes cellar!" giggled Harry, as he helped Ron and Hermione out.

"Great place they've got here," commented Hermione, grinning in the darkness.

"What now?" inquired Ron, dreading the darkness for some more spiders.

"Now, we sleep till dawn," responded Harry, glancing at Hermione for more instructions.

"We'll make our move tomorrow, Ron. We'll have to rest for the rest of the night," she exclaimed.

Ron was still nervous about sitting in the dark, although he had the ability to light his wand.

"_Nox!_" yelped Harry, and put out the light of his wand.

"What did you do that for?" interrogated Ron, looking around helplessly in the dark.

Harry and Hermione were giggling quietly at Ron's state of fear. They couldn't believe how much of a baby he was whenever it was dark. The calmly went to sleep on the Invisibility Cloak, which happened to be a lot more comfortable than lying on the rough floor. Ron was still looking out for spiders and creatures that might attack him within a heartbeat. Eventually, though, his eyes got sleepy, and he dozed off.

Harry was having the most beautiful dream now. He was soaring in the sky on his broomstick, over many farms in the country. Then, he saw Sirius from afar waving at him. Harry caught a glimpse of Buckbeak being chained to his tether. A wide smile appeared on Harry's face, and then he found himself descending lower and lower. Through the clouds he flew, and above the grassy pasture his traveled. When he landed at last, he got down hastily and hugged Sirius, like he's never felt any kind of warmth and family. Sirius showed him the way into the house, and Harry was amazed. His home was unlike old Grimmauld Place, not at all nasty or full of doxies. It was warm and bright, and had about three fireplaces. The windows, all of them, had fancy curtains that would roll themselves up whenever the sun rose, and roll down when it set. No shadows were creeping up the walls, for it was so bright and magnificent from the inside. Harry then was talking with his godfather, pleading for him to come and visit him at Hogwarts. But no, the circumstances, as Sirius said, wouldn't allow him to. Perhaps one day, as Sirius declared, he would be able to walk through the doors of the Great Hall one more time, before he passes on the next world.

Suddenly, in the dream, everything went dark, and the curtains pulled themselves down. Sirius and Harry were scared. The doorbell rang, and Sirius carefully stepped towards the door. Into the house stepped the wicked Voldemort, and instantly, Sirius was dead.

"Harry? Harry?"

"No…I'll kill…I'll kill you…" murmured Harry vaguely.

"Harry, it's me," came the voice of Hermione.

He was awakened by her, and for some moments, he didn't realize whether he was in reality or dream world. His heartbeats grew faster, and his breath was terribly quick.

"Relax," instructed Hermione, pulling Harry upright, "what happened?"

"Sirius," began Harry, "I was flying above a farm, and then I saw a pretty little house. Sirius was waving…and Buckbeak was tied to his tether…we talked and had fun."

"And then?" asked Hermione slowly, but impatiently.

"Voldemort…everything went dark….no light…Sirius opened the door, and…and the next thing I knew was him on the floor, motionless…then…Voldemort was laughing…and I heard someone call my name."

"That was me Harry," whispered Hermione amicably, "how are you feeling now?"

"Confused," admitted Harry, "I've never had this dream before."

"I know," she said quickly, "but it has a positive side, too."

"What?" interrogated Harry, discerning her face outlined in the dark.

"According to Divination, seeing a dead sibling in a dream foreshadows meeting him in the future," explained Hermione; Ron was snoring loudly, "that's the only bit of useful information I was able to get out of that mad old hag."

"Really?" asked Harry, his heart beginning to flood with happiness. "I'll…I'll get to see Sirius again?"

"I'm not sure Harry, but that was the theory behind such a dream," she held his hand, to sooth him; "I hope you do, one day soon."

Harry's ears caught a noise coming from the door.

"Lumos!" he muttered, and pointed his wand straight at the door. It was opened, perhaps a few inches.

"There's nothing there Harry," chattered Hermione, "it possibly was the wind."

After Harry was assured that nobody had entered, he put the light out, and reclined on his father's cloak. He had his eyes opened for a while, even though it was pitch dark and he couldn't see a thing. He kept recalling the dream he'd just seen. Harry was so happy and glad that he'll get to see his godfather for one more time, very soon. Yet, he had slight doubt in it. Hermione had always hated Divination, for it needed a lot of guesswork. She might've just made that theory up to bring him some comfort. But impossible, she was his secret girlfriend, and she would never dare to lie to him. She never did, and never will. That's what Harry believed about Hermione. She was always so honest to her friends.

Harry shut his eyes slowly, and sank back into the deep shadows.

The next dawn Harry woke up, he found himself buried under the Invisibility Cloak.

"Good morning!" whispered Hermione, smiling at his sleepy face.

"Good morning Hermione," he replied, putting on his glasses, "where's Ron?"

She pointed her finger behind her. Ron couldn't be seen behind Hermione, for her hair was all messed up because of her disability to sleep in such circumstance. Their friend was still sleeping, and his mouth was three inches open.

"Better wake him up," said Harry, getting up, but making sure the cloak still concealed them.

"Ron, Ron," whispered Hermione, pushing his shoulder gently.

"Wha…What?" he yawned, as light came back to his eyes.

"Get up," she spoke, smiling, "it's dawn, and we'll be leaving soon."

"Yeah, yeah," he whispered back, and got up.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up from the floor, kneeled down a bit, and started walking to the door. It was locked. Harry was mystified by that fact. Only last night, if he wasn't mistaken, he saw the door open a few inches; now it was closed.

"Alohomora!" muttered Hermione, and within seconds, the door was unlocked.

Carefully, she pushed it open, and stepped outside.

"Colloportus!" sighed Ron, locking the door behind him.

"Nice move!" commented Hermione, giggling from underneath the magical cloak.

No one was up yet, and the village was dead of noise. The sun rose behind the green hills from afar, and the birds were starting to sing. The shadows were beginning to leave, as the brilliant sunrays washed them away.

Harry was looking around him, to make sure nobody was there yet.

"I think it's ok to take off the cloak," he suggested, only Ron and Hermione declined to do so, taking extra precautions.

"Harry, there's a killer Death Eater on the loose, and you want us to walk freely, undisguised?" asked Hermione logically.

"It's really getting tight, though," pointed out Harry. It was true; the three were stuck to each other under the cloak.

"Hang on," said Hermione, "I have an idea."

She took her wand out, and pointed it at the cloak above her.

"Engorgio!" she whispered softly, and the cloak was beginning to expand.

"It worked!" sighed Ron, excited. At least, now they would have more room to scoot a bit under the cloak.

They crossed the street, and began trudge forward. Zonko's Jokeshop was filled with joking materials, as they grabbed everybody's attention from outside the window. The Hog's Head had the curtains down, and no sign of movement came from the inside.

"Look!" pointed out Ron, as he saw some crows flying above them.

Harry and Hermione automatically raised their heads up to see a murder of crows soaring high in the sky.

"They must be…from Dark Valley!" declared Hermione, remembering the awful incident of the crows attacking them at Hogwarts.

"The bloody spies," mumbled Ron, furiously, "I bet you anything they're carrying news to Dolohov."

"Inevitably, they would be," discussed Harry, "let's go."

They scurried along on the road to sit under the shade, on the porch just outside a giftshop called "Lady Loretta's Little". The shop's name was a bit self-explanatory, for all the gifts that the three of them saw through the window fitted in one palm.

"I'm getting bored," groaned Ron, as the time passed by, "when could we get this cloak off?"

"Ron! This is serious," gossiped Hermione earnestly, "we could be wearing the Invisibility Cloak for the next twenty four hours!"

"Ok, don't bite my head off," gurgled Ron, "you should learn how to control your temper."

"And perhaps you should learn how to shut your mouth and stop complaining. Please, Ron, do us a favor and shut it," begged Hermione desperately, humiliating poor Ron.

A few minutes later, Ron heard the birds singing in his empty stomach, kicking the walls of it.

Harry and Hermione laughed at it.

"It's your fault," pointed out Ron, glancing at Hermione, "I could get me some food, but no, I shouldn't move, shouldn't talk, shouldn't complain, shouldn't do anything at all. I might as well be fine with you two off my tail."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, amazed by Ron's sudden selfishness.

"Ok, I'm starving too," commented Hermione, rubbing her stomach, "we'll knick some food, but quickly return here."

"Fine with me," snarled Ron, a wicked grin appearing on his face.

"Wait, I've got a feeling that something is missing," moaned Harry.

Ron was impatient, stumping his foot on the ground, pleading his fellows to move on. Hermione looked around, helping Harry to get whatever he think he's lost.

"There, your sword!" pointed out Hermione, as she saw Anystal lying on the dusty doorstep of Lady Loretta's Little giftshop. Quickly, Harry stretched out his hand, and like lightning, snatched his sword, and placed it back under his clothes.

"Thank you," muttered Harry, quietly, appreciating the way his girlfriend helped him.

"Great, you've got the sword. Can we move on now?" interrogated Ron, stumping his foot.

Harry and Hermione nodded.

Carefully, they got off the bench, and hastened to The Three Broomsticks. Ron almost tripped over the cloak once his leg came out.

"You see," emphasized Harry, "that's the disadvantage of enlarging the cloak."

Hermione and Ron raised their eyebrows at him, as if he never realized he was the one complaining about the size.

The door was of course locked, and no one was inside yet.

"_Alohomora!_" muttered Ron, and soon, the door turned unlocked, and sprang open.

They made sure they pushed the door back behind them, so that no evidence of burglary was left behind.

It was quite warm inside The Three Broomsticks, for there was a fire glowing like the sun in the fireplace. The tables were all neatly lined by the side, and the chairs were placed upside down on the tables. The floor was clearly mopped last night, for it was sparkling.

"To the kitchen," pointed out Ron.

"Ron, there is not kitchen. We don't get a feast here," giggled Hermione.

"Oh, sorry," apologized Ron, and continued to wander forward.

Harry was longing for a Butterbeer, actually two. However, he found something even more appetizing.

"Look! Cupcakes!" murmured Harry, and soon, he pulled them to the bar.

The cupcakes were placed in a cold storage, and the key wasn't with them.

Harry took out his wand, dropping the Marauder's Map, and pointed at the huge lock.

"_Alohomora!_" he spoke, and immediately, the lock turned counterclockwise, and the cold storage glass was lifted upwards. He stretched his hand and grabbed a handful of delicious cupcakes.

"One for you, and the other for you," he whispered, handing two cupcakes to Ron and Hermione.

Ron was so excited to have a bite out of the chocolate cupcake. But he found a surprise he never expected. The cupcake was too rough to chew, and his teeth were stinging him with pain.

"Here, Ron," giggled Hermione. With a clever wave of her wand, the cupcake was softened, and she did the same thing to her cake and Harry's.

Several minutes later, when each of them was done eating two cupcakes, Harry went over to snatch some Butterbeer. He summoned the big jugs, and filled them with the warm toothsome foamy Butterbeer. It was quite soothing to drink something like this before you started a long wearisome mission, in which you were threatened to die.

Unluckily, Ron, who turned a bit clumsy, had the jug slipped from his hand.

"Oops!" he scoffed, staring at the broken peaces.

"I'll fix it," sneered Harry, and took out his wand to repair the broken jug. Nevertheless, he never managed to do so, for the three of them heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Madam Rosmerta! Quick! Let's get out of here," instructed Hermione, and they glided to the front door. In only ten seconds, they found their way out. They left clear footsteps behind them, which could be used to detect burglars who were breaking and entering.

"_Deletrius!_" muttered Hermione, and with one wave of her wand, the footsteps vanished into the thin air.

"Now, where exactly is my brothers' shop? Oh yeah, that way!" stated Ron. He was in the lead, and Harry and Hermione followed him, vigilant from any sounds. They had to walk just a further stretch of the road, until they saw the smoke coming out of the chimney. There it was, as gold as its manufacturers, The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped a bit closer to the outside window, glancing at the inside.

"Look, over there," whispered Harry, as he indicated a black cloak hung over a nail sticking out of the wall. There was also a black hood just over it.

"Where could Dolohov be?" inquired Ron. "He's not taking a bath or something?"

"Don't be silly Ron," noted Hermione. "But where are Fred and George?"

Harry continued to look around, searching for two tall red haired boys. Still, no sign of them.

"Better step in," declared Hermione, scared.

She unlocked the door, and they instantly walked into the shop. Hermione was looking slightly frail, and scared about the unknown. Ron was having a bit of fun playing with the sausage Jack-in-the-Box. Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were moving crates around, thinking that possibly Fred and George might be hidden somewhere.

"Ron, would you stop playing and help us out here?" interrogated Hermione, taking off her thick wool jumper.

Then, something occurred to Harry that he'd never thought of before. He suggested Fred and George being upstairs. And so, Harry, Ron, and Hermione crept upstairs, looking for a sign of Fred and

George.

At last, they found them.

"Fred! George! Wake up!" whispered Ron, excitedly. His twin brothers were tied to a wall, there hands and legs wrapped with thick itchy ropes.

"What's the matter with them?" asked Harry, trying to wake up Fred.

"Dolohov must've put them into enchanted sleep," explained Hermione solemnly and logically.

"Put them into what?" asked Ron.

"Enchanted sleep, Ron, and it can't be lifted off only if the one who put on them takes it back," spewed Hermione, sitting on a couch.

"Well then, help us untie them," muttered Ron, trying to loosen the knot.

"It won't do any good, at all," suggested Hermione, "the rope is tightly secured."

"Well then…do some magic, you know everything," suggested Ron desperately.

"I'll try," agreed Hermione, and she took out her wand.

"_Lacarnum Inflamari!_" she cried, but no flames affected the ropes whatsoever. Ron was depressed.

Harry was thinking of something, while Ron argued with Hermione. There had to be something that could've lifted the ropes off, but still nothing came to his mind.

"_Accio Ropes!_" she tried to summon the ropes to her, but they didn't move at all.

Suddenly, Ron came up with an idea.

"Move over," he pointed out, as he gently pushed Harry and Hermione away from the two prisoners.

He concentrated his mind on something special. He closed his eyes to gain focus, and trust in his ability. When he opened them, he raised his wand to the knot that connected the two ropes; it was in the middle between Fred and George. Carefully, he waved his wand to the left, then right, then diagonally down.

"_Frogos!_" he cried out, and instantly, a beam of blue light shot out the tip of his wand. It was circling around the big knot, and entirely covered it. Within a heartbeat, smoke appeared after an explosion. And then, the smoke slowly drifted away.

"You…you did it!" yelled Hermione, so excited.

The result was the knot becoming loose. Fred and George fell to the floor, as soon as the knot was loosened.

"Look how tight the nutter tied the ropes around their wrists!" pointed out Ron furiously. Their wrists were very red by now.

For a moment, Hermione gazed dreamingly at Ron, beaming at him.

"How did I ever forget solid division?" she wondered, grinning at him.

Helplessly, Ron was begging his brothers to wake up. He tried everything. Ron poured some water in their faces, slapped their cheeks, explodes some fire-crackers, and even tickled their ears with a curly pig-tail-like string!

Shortly after that, Hermione and Harry realized that Dolohov was missing. Of course, he couldn't have just enchanted Fred and George and just left. For a second, Harry thought he heard someone climbing up the stairs.

"It might be Dolohov!" whispered Harry. "Quick, Ron, hide in the closet. Hermione, hide behind the door, and I'll be on the other side. When he comes in, we'll surprise him with our wands!"

Obediently, Ron opened the dusty closet door, and hid inside, although the dust and cob-webs made it uninhabitable.

Harry and Hermione hid on either side of the door, with their wands ready.

The footsteps were having a higher pitch, as they crept closer and closer to the door.

Harry watched Hermione's eyes, and signaled something that she understood as surprising the person coming. Instantly, the both of them took out their wands, and pointed them straight at what they thought was Dolohov.

"Percy?" sighed Harry, stunned.

"Hello Harry, Hello Hermione," spoke the unexpected Weasley.

Ron came bursting out of the closet as soon as he heard the name "Percy".

"Perce? What are you doing here?" interrogated Ron, shocked by his bigger brother's appearance

"Would you mind lowering your wands?" asked Percy, grinning. There was something about his grin that made him look suspicious to Harry. It was not at all like the grin of the Percy he knew, but this one seemed more crooked and wicked. But he dared not to speak anything, not until he realized the truth at least.

"So, Percy, how did you ever get here?" inquired Hermione, interested.

"I came as soon as I heard," explained Percy, looking at his twin brothers, "the Order sent me a message, and I was nearly done with my honeymoon with Penelope."

"Oh, how is she?" asked Harry calmly.

"She'll be allright without me for a couple of days," claimed Percy, still gazing at his brothers, "anyway, I was totally in shock to hear what happened to Fred and George. God! What's he done to them?"

"He likely put them into enchanted sleep," suggested Hermione earnestly, "and they were tied with thick ropes that seemed almost impossible to untie. Thanks to Harry here, we managed to get them off."

Percy averted his eyes, and watched Harry. Harry still thought there was something wrong with Percy, and his grin was suspicious.

"Have you seen Dolohov on your way here?" inquired Ron, awaiting Percy's answer.

"No," he replied straight away, "he must've escaped."

"He can't have," muttered Hermione, "why would he leave his cloak and hood behind when he decided to escape?"

Percy was swallowing a lump now, and that interested Harry even more.

"Perhaps he had another pair of them?" suggested Percy, sweating.

"Look here Perce, don't you be silly…" Ron began an argument with his older brother, who unexpectedly showed up at this shop.

Meanwhile, Harry pulled Hermione closer to him.

"What?" she asked, intrigued.

"Don't you think there's something different in Percy?" whispered Harry quietly.

"Like what?"

"Look at his grin. It isn't the pleasant warm grin that I've always known…it looks like…filled with cruelty and nastiness," explained Harry.

"Nonsense Harry, people change their grins all the time," sighed Hermione.

"Yeah, but I knew Percy for six years, and he's never changed his grin. It's unique in him," explained Harry.

"Harry, listen to me," tittered Hermione softly.

"No, you listen to me," interrupted Harry, "when you pointed out leaving the cloak and hood behind, he was uneasy. I assure you, he was swallowing some kind of heavy lump in his throat."

"I don't blame him, because he's as confused as we are," whispered Hermione, scratching her neck.

"Hermione, please believe me," pleaded Harry, "that's not Percy!"

"I disagree, Harry!" declined Hermione, and moved away to listen to Ron and Percy's argument. It seemed that they were chattering about the two pairs of cloaks forever, had not Hermione interfered.

"Thank you Hermione," stated Percy, getting up, "you've just ended a silly argument with a non-stop red haired weasel."

That even shocked Harry more. It was the first time he heard Percy tease his own brother. Percy used to talk all the time about official decisions in the ministry and his meetings with seniors.

"Would you three please follow me? Let's leave them sleep in peace until we figure out a plan to rescue them," talked Percy, grinning at Harry, as he showed them the way out.

Harry was hesitating a bit, but his girlfriend insisted that he kept on walking.

"Trust me," whispered Harry, "something's wrong about him."

But Hermione ignored him, and continued walking downstairs behind Ron and Percy.

Percy stopped in front of a little door, leading to a little chamber in the basement.

"'The Thinking Room'" Percy read off the letters on the label. "Fred and George must've used this room to elaborate their ideas about their joking business."

Even the way Percy laughed seemed different from usual, and Harry didn't at all trust him. Nevertheless, he had no choice but to follow Hermione's desires.

"In you step, and I'm right behind you," indicated Percy, opening the door. The room looked gorgeous with several maps and rolls of parchment. It had posters of the twins hanging all over the place, and some toys were located on top of shelves.

As soon as Harry entered, he heard a slam. Percy wasn't in with them, instead, he was out, gazing a them through the glass window on the door. His grin widened into scary one, and the three them were stunned.

"I told you it was a trap, but you weren't listening!" yelled Harry, enraged. Ron and Hermione had their eyes wide open, and rushed to the door to push it open, but no use. Even though they knew the unlocking spell, there was no lock from the inside.

"I guess you'll be joining those two idiots in a short amount of time," giggled Percy wickedly from behind the door.

"Percy! Let us out…you've gone mental!" yelled Ron, hitting the door strongly with his fists.

Suddenly, a wicked face crept to the glass window. It was not Percy's, but Dolohov's. His eyes were as haunted as the devil's. His rigid cheeks had a long scar. His filthy greasy brown hair was covering his eyes fleetingly, as the wind from the outside pulled them away. His teeth were so yellow, all uneven and a few of them were missing. His long crooked nose was the scariest thing about him.

"You mad nutter! Get us out of here!" shouted Ron helplessly.

"The clock is ticking," whispered Dolohov in a cold voice, holding a hand watch. Momentarily, he walked away from the door, laughing like a maniac.

"Where's Percy?" asked Ron curiously. "How come he suddenly came out of my brother's body?"

"He must've used the Polyjuice Potion!" shrieked Hermione, looking around her for someway to escape.

"If only you listened to me Hermione," began Harry in grief.

Hermione turned her head to him, and hugged him tightly.

"Harry…forgive me for not understanding, I'm so sorry," she apologized difficultly. Harry said nothing, but stroked her neck, and his hands were holding on to her back.

Ron was watching them, amazed. He never saw such intense feelings between the two of them.

"Harry…Hermione…what's going on?" inquired Ron, perplexed.

"Nothing," responded Hermione, letting go of Harry quickly.

Ron went back to looking at the floor, desperate to get out and save not two, but three of his innocent brothers.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat there for another forty minutes, all depressed, and afraid. They were stuck to the floor; all looking miserably at each other, and worst of all, was the guilt Hermione felt for not listening to her boyfriend. She felt so remorseful that she began a flood of tears. Harry and Ron stuck to her to bring her some comfort, but still, no solution came to one of their minds.

"Come on, we can't just give up," chattered Hermione, getting up.

"Hermione, it's no use," sighed Ron heavily.

"We're trapped, and that's that," admitted Harry, wiping off the sweat on his forehead.

Meanwhile, Hermione was thinking of a plan that would get them out. She knew all the magic they learned for the past six years, and was certainly able to apply it to real life.

She took out her wand, which was stained with her tears, and pointed it to the glass window.

"_Bombardo!_" she wept, and instantly, the glass shattered, breaking into smaller bits which were falling to the ground.

Harry and Ron's eyes moved towards the explosion sound, observing Hermione's plan.

"Good," prattled Ron, "now we'll have to squeeze into that hole to get out."

Hermione shot him an angry look, and kept walking across this Thinking Room.

"Hermione, what good will it do? How in the world are we going to get out?" inquired Harry, folding the Marauder's Map and placing it in his pocket.

"Would you two mind being quiet? It's called the Thinking Room!" snapped Hermione, enraged. She came to another clever idea. She thought that maybe if the hole was too tight and small, perhaps she could enlarge it to fit their size.

"Engorgio!" she cried, and it worked. The circular opening was widening into a larger size, creating enough space for one of them to pass inward.

Harry and Ron had expressions of rejoice on their faces.

"We owe you so much," they both said together, standing up.

"No, I owe you," declined Hermione, wiping the tears off her nose, "I'm the reason we got stuck here. If I had listened to Harry, then perhaps we would've captured Dolohov by now."

And so, they decided to take turns into going out.

"I'll go first," spoke Hermione, approaching the door, "once I'm out, I'll unlock the door, and then you two could get out easier than I will."

Yet, the circular opening was a bit high. Hermione had to jump so that her hands were clanged to the opening, and she need someone to lift her up.

"I'll help," talked Harry, and he quickly moved to push her up. She pushed her head through, and then easily slid forward, so that her hind body could get out in turn.

"AAAH!" shrieked Hermione, as something from the outside pulled her away.

"Hermione!" shouted Harry and Ron, not being able to see because Hermione's clothes were blocking the way.

Ron saw two hands gently pulling Hermione out of the hole, but it was a bit clumsy, and dropped her to the floor accidentally.

"Oops! Forgive me, dear!" spoke a familiar voice that Harry hadn't heard in ages.

"Tonks!" he mouthed, not believing his luck.

"Wotcher Harry!. Why are you in there? And why was your little friend creeping out of the window?" interrogated Tonks hastily.

"We got trapped," explained Ron, who was eager to get out, "Dolohov, well it was Percy at first…but then he transformed into Dolohov, and…"

"What he means is," began Hermione, standing upright, "Dolohov used the Polyjuice Potion to turn into Ron's brother, Percy, and then he brought us here, and locked the door."

"He ran away, and we were stuck here for forty minutes," whinnied Harry, talking to Tonks through the broken window.

"What is all this mess?" inquired Tonks, stepping on the remnants of the broken glass.

"Hermione made it explode," continued Ron, "and then she enlarged its size so that she could get through first, and then open the door for us."

"I see," began Tonks in her gloomy voice.

"And then you showed up, weirdly," added Ron, still surprised by her sudden appearance.

"Oh, I came here on the Order's order," chattered Tonks, smiling at Ron, "they told me that they have tracked you escaping the castle."

"How did they ever know?" asked Harry, mystified.

"Well, the Order has its own ways, just like the Ministry," spoke Tonks, beaming, "and then, old Madam Rosmerta contacted us through mail, telling us about some people who broke into her pub."

Ron looked at Harry, bewildered.

"She said that she saw a broken jar of Butterbeer," explained Tonks earnestly, "and then we figured out that it was you three who did it."

"Did you send Percy here?" inquired Ron, still confused.

"Percy? Your brother, dear?"

"Yes,"

"Not at all, why would he come here at such time? I heard he just got married," discussed Tonks humorously.

"That's what we found weird," explained Hermione, behind the door.

"I just don't get how he tracked us…I mean Dolohov," prattled Harry, trying to solve a puzzle.

"Did you see your brother Percy when you first came in here?" asked Tonks, looking directly at Ron through the broken window.

"No," he responded.

"Hold on," began Harry, as if he just remembered something vital, "last night, I was having a nightmare. When I woke up, I heard a noise from the door. I saw the door opened a bit."

Hermione sighed, shocked.

"That's it," she mouthed right away, "Dolohov must've come to Honeydukes cellar after he saw us at night, just to see where we were staying for the night. And then, he brought on Percy, took his hair, and brewed a Polyjuice Potion. Maybe that's how he managed to find us in Fred and George's shop."

"He had a perfect plan drawn in his head," muttered Harry, "he decided to show up late in Percy's physical form to make him look innocent. But then we saw the truth."

"My dears, didn't you see which way he went?" inquired Tonks, moving some broken glass away with her feet.

"All we know is that he left," declared Hermione solemnly, "and he said our clock was ticking."

"Ticking?" wondered Tonks. "For what?"

"We don't know," replied Hermione, annoyed by Tonk's curiosity.

"Would you mind getting us out of here now, please?" asked Ron, staring at the clumsy woman.

"Oh, nearly forgot," giggled Tonks, and she took out her wand to open the door.

Fast as they were, Harry and Ron got out, careful not to injure their legs with the long sharp broken glass.

"Fancy place your brothers have got here," pointed out Tonks, gazing at the Thinking Room.

"Right, about my brothers, what are we going to do with them?" interrogated Ron, bringing on the major reason the three of them came here.

"Oh don't worry, Mr. Weasley," laughed Tonks, "they'll be fine when we take them to our headquarters."

"No, not Grimmauld Place," moaned Hermione, refusing the idea of returning to such a messy dirty house.

However, Tonks ignored her, and shut the door to the Thinking Room.

"Ouch!" came Hermione's voice, and they saw her stare at her leg.

"What's wrong, my dear?" asked Tonks quietly.

"Nothing…it's just my leg," cried Hermione, her eyes watering. There was a big wound that she just realized was there. Although it was shallow cut from the ankle to the knees, it stung like ice.

"Ron, you go with Tonks to get Fred and George; I'll stay here," talked Harry, sitting down beside Hermione.

At once, Ron joined Tonks upstairs. Of course, she tripped over some left over Extended Ears, and began laughing at herself again.

"Does it hurt that much?" asked Harry calmly, staring horrifically at Hermione's wound.

"It sure is painful," admitted Hermione, trying as hard as she can to hide her pain.

"Let me see," spoke Harry, and he lifted her trousers a bit higher. Blood was oozing out of the flesh, which heightened Harry's anxiety.

"Wait here, I'll get a first aid kit," pointed out Harry, and left to the back, heading to the storage.

Within minutes, he returned back with a kit that had pictures of Fred and George on it.

He gently took Hermione's leg, and placed it over a little cushion. She was weeping terribly, for the pain was so sharp.

Carefully, Harry wiped the blood off with thick towel paper. Although the bleeding subsided, it came out again.

"Finite Incantatem!" mouthed Harry, as he stopped the bleeding process. That was one good use of the magic he learned.

After that, Harry rubbed the large wound with some alcohol.

"Ow!" shrieked Hermione, as it stung even more.

"Its' ok, you can handle it," talked Harry, blowing gently on her leg. Momentarily, he wrapped her injured leg with some kind of pink wrapper that belonged to the two jokers. Harry made sure he secured the wrapper well around her leg, and covered it from knee to ankle.

"Try to stand up now," instructed Harry.

Hermione pushed against the cushion, to stand up. For a moment, she was staggering, losing her balance. Then, she almost fell, had not Harry grabbed her in the right timing. He placed her arm around his shoulder, and provided support.

"How does it feel?" he inquired nervously.

"Better…at least I can walk," pointed out Hermione, smiling at him. "Thanks Harry…I'm so grateful to you."

A grin appeared on his face, and he sympathetically kissed her on her wet cheek. She giggled for a moment, and then with Harry's aid, moved forward.

Ron and Tonks appeared from the stairs, but not Fred and George.

"Where are your brothers?" asked Harry, looking curiously at Ron.

"Right behind us," he spoke.

Harry waited to see Fred and George walk downstairs, but instead, they were hovering in the air.

"Don't get freaked, Harry, dear," giggled Tonks, "I used the locomotion charm."

Here, Harry and Hermione understood.

"Say, what happened to your leg, Hermione?" interrogated Ron, looking at her leg, which seemed fatter at the bottom.

"It's covered with a wrapper, Ron. My leg's not that full of fat," she grinned at him. "Harry mended it."

Ron's eyes shifted to Harry, who looked innocent.

"Such a faithful friend," pointed out Ron. "So, what are we going to do about Dolohov, now?"

Tonks magically placed Fred and George on a wide table.

"For now, let's just get back to Grimmauld Place, and hand your brothers to a specialist that would end their enchanted sleep," spoke Tonks, her hair suddenly changing purple.

Ron and Hermione had their eyes wide open.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"She's a Metamorphagus," explained Harry, "she can change her appearance at will. She nearly scared me last year when they came for me at the Dursleys."

Ron slightly understood, but Hermione remembered right away an article she read in a book about Metamorphagi.

Shortly after that, the four of them stepped out of The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop, with Fred and George hovering secretly under Harry's cloak. There were many people by now that were awake, all heading to their shops. None of them had noticed the four come out; everyone was busy. It was amazing how they got out for routine work although they knew Dolohov was present at Hogsmeade.

"Now, how do you suppose we'll get out of here? How are we going to travel to Grimmauld Place?" inquired Harry, looking around at the crammed Hogsmeade.

"We haven't got broomsticks, and we can't Apparate," added Ron.

"No problem, my dears," giggled Tonks happily, "here, have some chewing gum."

She took out three pieces of chewing gum from her messy pocket. The three were reluctant at first, but then they put out their hands to take the chewing gums. Tonks pulled Fred and George's hands from underneath the clock, unobtrusively. As soon as the tip of their fingers touched the wrappers, they were all swirling in the air…


	34. Interrogations Hither and Thither

34 (Interrogations Hither and Thither)

It was only seconds before Harry finally realized what was happening. By touching the chewing gums, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Tonks have been transported to Grimmauld Place. Obviously, the chewing gums were portkeys. Hermione was holding on tightly to Harry, fearful of falling down or injuring her leg anymore. Ron stretched both hands out and kneeled down a bit to gain balance. Meanwhile, Tonks, the clumsiest woman Harry's ever seen, was falling every moment and trying to get up difficultly. Fred and George were the luckiest two; they didn't feel anything because they were in deep sleep.

Finally, the swirling stopped, and everyone was down on the ground again. Tonks had a dreamy smile on her face, and was turning around in circles. Harry and Hermione were trying not to fall on each other. Ron was so dizzy from the ride that he kept staggering to the left and then to the right.

"Honestly," spoke Ron, his eyes out of focus, "we could've taken the Knight Bus."

Again, Fred and George kept on hovering in the air, following Tonks.

Before them stood a great big house that was last seen during Percy's wedding. Only last year, it's been the filthiest place one could imagine. The house was so ancient, and it was filled with doxies. The furniture was too old, and needed a lot of upholstering. No need to mention the house-elf, Kreacher, who turned against Harry, his friends, and the Order when he betrayed them into co-operating with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Tonks put out her finger to ring the doorbell, which made Harry twitch. As soon as the doorbell rang, the loudest noise ever was heard. It was Mrs. Black's portrait shouting, cursing the outsiders and mudbloods.

"For heavens sake Tonks, I told you not to ring the bell!" came the scolding, but warm voice of Mrs. Weasley, as she opened the door.

In stepped Harry, Hermione, Ron, Tonks, and following them were Fred and George.

"Oh Fred! George! Are they allright? What's happened to them? Why aren't they…"

"Oh please Molly, just let us breathe for a moment," giggled Tonks, handing the Invisibility Cloak to Harry, who then placed it in his pocket. She then went over to the kitchen to fix her lunch.

"Ron! Ron dear, whatever happened to your brothers?" inquired Mrs. Weasley nervously, her eyes wild.

"It's a long story, just let us sit down," mumbled Ron, still feeling the dizziness in his head.

The group sat down on an enormous couch, all feeling dizzy frail from the ride.

"So tell me," muttered Mrs. Weasley, handing everyone a Butterbeer, "what happened?"

"It was a trap, Mrs. Weasley," spoke Hermione softly.

It was as if Mrs. Weasley had just noticed Hermione's leg; no wonder why she sat beside Harry.

"What happened to your leg, dear?" she inquired, her anxiety reaching the surface.

"You explain," chattered Hermione, eyeing Ron, and then grinning at him.

"Well, we sneaked out of school at night, and…"

"Sneaked out of school!" shrieked Mrs. Weasley, taking a deep breath. "What the devil were you thinking about?"

"Well, we chose the One-Eyed-Witch statue, which was the shortcut to Honeydukes cellar…"

"But why did you leave the school?" interrupted Mrs. Weasley irritably.

"Mum, we had to do something about Fred and George; we couldn't just leave them out there," muttered Ron, exasperated with his mother's deliberate interruptions.

"You could've left it for us and the rest of the Order," chattered Mrs. Weasley, "I don't think Remus told you to sneak out of school and risk your necks in that letter."

Harry and Hermione grinned reluctantly at her.

"Anyway, so when we finally arrived, we slept till dawn," tittered Ron, "and when we woke up, we were hungry…or rather, I was the one who made them do it."

"Made who do what?" interrogated Mrs. Weasley impatiently.

"I made Harry and Hermione join me for stealing some food from The Three Broomsticks," admitted Ron quickly, fearful his mother would start taunting him.

"Why, you ungrateful little thief," growled a harsh voice that Harry hasn't heard in a long time.

Into the living room stepped Mad-Eye-Moody, his wooden leg making a clank noise.

"Professor Moody!" wept Harry, standing up from his place; Hermione nearly fell over.

"How many times do I have to remind you?" asked Mad-Eye, annoyed. "I'm not a Professor. I never have been one, and I don't think I'll ever be one!"

Harry started giggling.

"Say, why'd you steal food from Honeydukes; you could've brought something on the way," suggested Mad-Eye, his magical eye rolling to the other side.

"Well…we forgot," burbled Ron.

"Forget about the food-thingy." spluttered Mad-Eye. "What did you three do after that?"

"Of course, we moved under Harry's cloak…you remember the Invisibility Cloak?" began Ron.

"Yes, I do. Carry on," prattled Mad-Eye rudely.

"Well, we kind of scurried to Fred and George's place, The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop," continued Ron solemnly.

"And then we looked through the window…just to explore the place," added Harry, grinning at Hermione.

"At first, we saw Dolohov's cloak and hood hung, but he wasn't there," explained Hermione, wincing as the pain in her leg came frequently.

"Hanging? Where the bloody hell do you suppose he was?" interrogated Mad-Eye, rolling his magical eye to the kitchen, where Tonks currently was.

"I'm coming to that," continued Hermione, angry with Mad-Eye's behavior, "when we stepped inside, we saw no one. We climbed upstairs, and in an old dusty room, Fred and George were hung on a wall, all covered up with ropes."

"What did he think those two jokers were? Two Death-Eaters that were threatening?" giggled Mad-Eye, ironically. "Sorry."

Hermione's anger was slightly mollified.

"Eventually, we managed to untie them, but they were sleeping soundly," spoke Ron, taking a sip from his Butterbeer.

"Out of nowhere came Percy," added Harry, hearing a crashing noise coming from the kitchen.

"By Merlin! Doesn't that woman ever do something right?" growled Mad-Eye, staring at Tonks cleaning up the mess of pans and pots.

"Percy, or at least who we thought he was, tricked us into following him to the Thinking Room," declared Ron.

"The what?" interrupted Mad-Eye, settling down his wooden leg.

"The Thinking Room," repeated Hermione earnestly, "it's a room where Fred and George sat down and came up with ideas that suited their joking business best."

"Once we entered that room, he locked us in," muttered Ron, blowing some bubbles into his Butterbeer.

"And what happened then?" burst Mrs. Weasley, so nervous that her eyes nearly bulged out.

"Well, we saw something incredible through the window," exclaimed Ron, "Percy's face was gone, and instead, Dolohov's face appeared."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to have her heart fall to her stomach at those words.

"Until Hermione here," added Harry, "figured out that he used the Polyjuice Potion."

"We sat there for forty minutes, depressed and confused," affirmed Ron.

"You were trapped, huh?" lisped Mad-Eye.

"Yes," responded Harry, "until finally Hermione came up with a clever idea. She exploded the glass window, and enlarged it so that it fit our size."

"And that's where Tonks showed up," added Hermione, giggling at the way Tonks was confused in separating the pots from the pans; they all looked alike. "It was at that time where she accidentally dropped me, and that's how I got to injure my leg. Luckily, Harry mended it in no time."

Hermione was holding Harry's right hand with hers, smiling at him.

"Leave them there Tonks, I'll clean the mess up later!" squeaked Mrs. Weasley.

Tonks raised her hand from afar, holding up her thumb.

"Anyways, what happened after that?" questioned Mad-Eye, taking out his magical eye and steeping it in some polisher. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley were all disgusted.

"Tonks transferred all of us to here by a portkey, which we thought was chewing gum," talked Harry, almost retching due to the hideous sight.

"Is that all? Didn't Fred and George get hurt on the way?" inquired Mrs. Weasley, glancing at her twin sons who were lying motionlessly on a big red sofa.

"Nothing happened to those two, luckily," mentioned Ron, jealously, "it was us who were holding on to ourselves; you should've seen Tonks, though."

"Every time she tried to get up, her legs were buckling, and she fell down," joked Hermione, and Harry was giggling.

Mad-Eye became speechless for some moments; he seemed to be in deep thought.

"Didn't you see some crows on your way?" growled Mad-Eye, looking so determined.

The three looked at each other, eager to answer that question. And it came straight away to Ron's mind.

"Yeah! When we first arrived there, we saw the murder of crows…how do you know?" reminded Ron, glad that he had a good memory of recent events.

"Never mind that, now," growled Mad-Eye rudely, as usual.

"We think they were from Dark Valley," added Hermione, and Mad-Eye flinched at those words.

"What's the matter?" questioned Harry, puzzled.

"Nothing," responded Mad-Eye quickly, "it's just so awful to hear you mention that name; it's practically mentioning Voldemort's name."

"I'm sorry," apologized Hermione, for the uneasiness she caused Mad-Eye.

"There's no need to apologize," snarled Mad-Eye, "it's just an old habit I've got."

"Mad-Eye, where do you think Dolohov escaped?" interrogated Mrs. Weasley.

"To Diagon Alley," joked Mad-Eye, sarcastically.

"This is no laughing matter, Alastor!" lisped Mrs. Weasley, enraged.

"Of course it's not," growled Mad-Eye, "what do you expect me to know? I wasn't with that killer!"

Harry was having a flashback. It was a flashback about the day in which he saw the murder of crows, from Dark Valley, approaching Hogwarts. He remembered how one of the crows suddenly came to near to him, in addition to Ron and Hermione, and grew bigger. His croaking was as annoying as Voldemort's cold voice, but it was important. The crow had previously talked to them about future attacks on Hogwarts, and how Harry was destined to die this year.

"Hang on," began Harry, lifting his chin up, "Ron, Hermione, remember that big crow that talked to us long ago, during the attack?"

"Yes," they responded together instantly, for it was an unforgettable sight.

"Well, I think Dolohov rode that crow…flew it back to Dark Valley, where they all gathered with Voldemort," suggested Harry, uncertainly.

"How do you know all of this?" interrogated Mad-Eye, his voice filled with mystery.

"I know because I need to know," muttered Harry, ignoring Mad-Eye's wonder.

"Alastor, please, let him continue," whispered Mrs. Weasley, nudging him in the shoulder.

"Why did he invade Hogsmeade anyway? Specifically, why did he kidnap Fred and George in their own shop?" pointed out Ron, confused about the maniac's actions.

"Death Eaters have their own mysterious ways to serve their master," explained Mad-Eye, "they set out and explore the land, and see where the weakest points of the wizard community are. So, as had happened, Antonin Dolohov came to Hogsmeade and got hold of your brothers' shop. He probably wanted to see how fast the Ministry reacted. Nevertheless, it was you, Harry, and Hermione who acted straight away. You're only sixteen, and haven't much experienced the real world, but your courage, love, friendship, and care drove you to that road."

He was complimenting them in an unobtrusive way. The three were grinning at each other.

"Now that Dolohov has gone, presumably to Dark Valley, he sure has gathered some news for Voldemort," Mad-Eye carried on, "he'll be attacking for the last time soon, that's what I expect…I've fought Death-Eaters and captured dark wizards for ages, and I'm telling you now, because you need to know…it's dangerous…many people older than you are have been killed, murdered, or brutally tortured because of the existence of Voldemort and his Death-Eaters," spoke Mad-Eye slowly, "take Harry's parents for example. How about the Longbottoms? They've been tortured to insanity by Sirius's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. And till this day, they lie in St. Mungo's, not knowing what's going on around them."

This silenced the three for some moments.

"There's something I still don't get," declared Ron, mystified, "how had Dolohov got Percy? I thought he was off to France for his honeymoon."

Mrs. Weasley's frown changed into a little grin.

"It's true," admitted Mrs. Weasley, "your brother and Penelope have decided to spend their honeymoon in France, only Percy changed his decision in the last minute. He had to be near to the Ministry, for he was offered a new job from Dumbledore."  
"What job?" questioned Ron, opening the top button of his shirt.

"He was given a choice, and he accepted straight away," whispered Mrs. Weasley.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron impatiently, waiting to hear the new possession his brother was going to hold.

"Dumbledore appointed him as Senior Secretary to Minister of Magic," burst Mrs. Weasley, tears of happiness falling down from her eyes.

"Wow!" sighed Hermione in disbelief. Harry was amazed too.

"I'm glad he got that possession, Mrs. Weasley," spoke Harry, beaming, "let's just hope he's a ton better than old Umbridge."

Ron and Hermione were giggling.

"Anyway, he agreed to take that position in the Ministry, and made a change in plans. He and Penelope consented to spend their honeymoon at the Hog's Head pub," chattered Mrs. Weasley, looking so proud of her son.

"The Hog's Head pub? What in the world was he thinking?" inquired Ron, stunned by his brother's decision.

"At least now, Ron, things make sense," philosophized Harry, rubbing Hermione's hand gently.

"See, it's not so difficult," growled Mad-Eye, "once you put the lost jig-saw puzzle pieces together, you come to a reasonable conclusion. That's how we, Aurors, work."

Harry nodded, and so did the rest of them.

"What are we going to do about Fred and George?" questioned Ron, gazing at the two sleeping-beauties.

"It seems we've got no other choice," muttered Mad-Eye, standing up, "I'm afraid they'll have to be transported to St. Mungo's. There's a healer who happens to be a friend of your dad's…you may have met him before, his name's Smethwyck."

Ron recalled his name, remembering that he once heard it.

"Yeah…I heard of him," responded Ron.

"Well, he's got a high degree, and was awarded a certificate for his stunningly amazing talent in healing people within a short period of time. He also happens to be an expert in spell damage," explained Mad-Eye, turning around his wooden leg.

"Take care of them, Mad-Eye," yelped Mrs. Weasley.

"No Molly, I shall drown them in the nearest sea I find," growled Mad-Eye.

Mrs. Weasley was definitely enraged by Mad-Eye's childish comments, and found that he sometimes can be irresponsible.

"I'm coming with you, and maybe we could invite Arthur later on," spoke Mrs. Weasley, putting on her shawl and hat.

"No you're not," spluttered Mad-Eye, limping temporarily as he turned around to face her, "you should stay here, and probably look after Tonks."

"I might as well come with you; they're my sons, you know," whinnied Mrs. Weasley, rolling her sleeves up.

Mad-Eye darned not to say more, for anything he could say may break Mrs. Weasley's nerves apart.

"Take care my dears," she talked for one more time, addressing Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Tonks will get you back to Hogwarts in no time."

"And not a word, Potter, to anyone of your nasty little friends," growled Mad-Eye, zipping his lip as a signal.

Harry nodded in agreement, doubting whether he would be able to ignore everybody's questions about his disappearance one he returned.

"Goodbye," mumbled Mrs. Weasley, and performed a locomotion charm that pulled Fred and George behind her.

"She needs to calm down," spoke Harry, as soon as the door was shut.

"I don't blame her. Being a mother must be tough," whispered Hermione, scratching her injured leg.

"I should've gone with her," spoke Ron, taking the last sip of his foamy Butterbeer, "you'll see how she's going to babble about me being an irresponsible brother, and how it's entirely my fault."

"It's no one's fault, Ron," acknowledged Harry, "we had to save your brothers, and that's what we did."

Ron nodded, staring at his empty jug.

"Well, they're gone so soon?" Tonk's gloomy voice was heard once again. She had just managed, fortunately, to prepare four chicken sandwiches without burning them.

"Mum and Moody went off to cure Fred and George at St. Mungo's," mumbled Ron, as he politely accepted the chicken sandwich from Tonks.

"Well, wish them good luck," joked Tonks, almost tripping over a banana peal that was probably left on the carpet by Mad-Eye long ago.

"Thanks," spoke Harry and Hermione, as they took their sandwiches from the tray.

For now, Harry was overwhelmed with all sorts of feelings. He's learned how cruel and deceiving Death-Eaters could be at some points, in addition to how mysterious their habits are. Of course, nothing more than hatred for them arose in his heart. He also remembered the day he came to St. Mungo's to visit Mr. Weasley. During that very day, he, Ron, and Hermione, had witnessed the affect of the Cruciatus curse that Bellatrix used on Alice and Frank Longbottom. It was so terrifying to see the extreme power it could reach. Other than that, Harry felt a bit proud of Percy. Although he's been siding with Cornelius Fudge last year, he had changed totally this year. Perhaps it was the heavy load that controlled him. Fudge was so demanding that he gradually controlled Percy, rather than Percy's personality naturally changing. Yet, Harry was uncertain of the reason Dolohov captured Fred and George temporarily. It was definite that it had to do something with Voldemort, but still vague.

Harry remembered how Sirius had shown him a family tree last year, including him, his brother, his cousins, and virtually every pureblood. Harry was surely shocked to see how Sirius was related to the Malfoys. Pity, he was Bellatrix's cousin, and she ended up killing him. Harry missed Sirius so much, and needed him for guidance through the way of victory. However, Harry and the others knew the truth about what happened beyond the veil, and it did no good mentioning it again.

"Better hurry up," mouthed Tonks, taking the last bite of her sandwich, "Dumbledore is already furious at your behavior, and we don't want him enraged anymore because of your delay in return."

"Tonks," spoke Harry, putting his sandwich down, "Dumbledore's a great wizard. He is sometimes mysterious in his actions and choices, but he'll understand this situation like he understood what happened in the Department of Mysteries last year."

Tonks spoke no more, fearful of having a flashback of the battle within the Department of Mysteries.

Harry heard the cuckoo bird coming out of the clock. It was exactly ten o'clock, and they were pretty late for third period. They've surely missed first and second period, but they could manage to attend half of the third.

"All set, my dear?" questioned Tonks, throwing her sandwich wrapper into the bin.

They all nodded back.

Harry stood up, Hermione's arm still around his shoulder. Ron tied his shoe laces, and put on his wool jacket.

Tonks pointed to the door, as she directed them to step outside.

"Now, how are we going back to Hogwarts? Don't tell me we'll use another bloody portkey!" wept Ron, excited and apprehensive.

"Oh no Mr. Weasley," joked Tonks, cleaning some stains on her clothes, "we'll be using the Knight Bus."

Great—Harry thought. It was just what he needed; a bumpy ride full of sudden movements, and Hermione was severely injured in her leg.

Finally, they were all outside Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Tonks stood with the trio in the shade, awaiting the Knight Bus.

"It'll be here any moment now," whispered Tonks, staring at her hand-watch, which happened to be not functioning properly.

Harry saw a great purple triple-decker zooming through the roads, heading towards them. Of course, it was so interesting how a bus that size could glide easily on the roads. It also happened to be a kind of strange bus. Yes, it had three decks. But what made it exceptionally different from other normal buses, were the beds inside.

The horn of the Knight Bus was sounded, and they all saw a young burly looking man stepping outside the bus.

"Stan!" prattled Harry. The conductor of the Knight Bus happened to be Stan Shunpike.

"'Arry! 'Ow nice ta see ya!" joked Stan, as he welcomed them all aboard. "Step in, step in."

Hermione faced a bit of difficulty stepping onto the bus, for it was bit high above the ground. With Harry's help, he lifted her up, and climbed up right behind her. Ron came up next, so nervous about the ride, for he had enough last year. It was sort of ironic; he always thought it was exotic and interesting to ride the Knight Bus, but last year when he experienced it, he had enough. Tonks came up as the last, her cloak getting stuck in the door.

"Don' mind that, I'll fix it," muttered Stan, as he tried as hard as he can to pull Tonks' cloak out. Eventually, he managed to pull it out but the two of them were knocked down to the floor, as Erny Prang, the bus driver, started it off.

Ron was sliding backwards five beds, and was struggling to hold on to something. Harry and Hermione had their heads lean backwards, but there legs were tied to each other under one bed.

When it was a bit calmer, Harry moved backwards to pull Ron to the front.

"I hate this bus," complained Ron, as he sat up, holding one of the poles coming down the bus.

Tonks, the most pathetic woman in existence, had been falling to the right, and left, her hair brushing at the windows. It was miraculous how she didn't get to break her neck when Erny turned the bus at a very sharp corner.

"How did they ever come to build this bus?" asked Ron, holding tightly to the pole, his head stuck to it.

"I know," responded Harry, burying Hermione's head in his shoulder, "it must be amazing how they managed to transport witches, wizards, and magical creatures on this bus. I wonder what they'll do next year…probably transporting other cars and vehicles."

He heard Hermione laugh quietly from underneath his chin, and Ron was fascinated by Harry's possible idea too.

After twenty minutes full of sliding, falling, bumping, and slipping, the Knight Bus halted in front of the Leak Cauldron.

"Thanks," said Harry, facing Stan and Erny, as he stepped down.

"I wish I'll never see you again," mumbled Ron softly, so that they wouldn't hear him.

Tonks luckily jumped off the Knight Bus before it moved a muscle.

"Bye 'arry! Take care!" Harry heard Stan Shunpike yelling at him from afar, waving his hand, his head sticking out of the bus like a stinging tail of a bee.

"In you go, my dears," instructed Tonks, pushing the door open.

The Leaky Cauldron, from the inside, was lit with candlelight. Many witches and wizards were reading some books, sitting on the bar, ordering a large brandy.

It seemed that nobody had noticed the four coming in, for the place was so crammed it looked like an ant village.

"I'm sorry to let you hear this," declared Tonks, taking out a wallet, "but I'm afraid we'll swirl in the air once again."

"Oh no, not a portkey," moaned Ron. He's had more than enough on the Knight Bus, and couldn't bear getting dizzy all over again.

Nevertheless, they had no other choice. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Tonks laid their hands on the wallet, and found themselves swiveling in the air liked an evolving tornado. Ron had an expression that indicated him being sick. Tonks had that gloomy smile on her face, mumbling every second about her clumsiness. Harry and Hermione had tied their legs together, and had been holding to each other tightly.

At last, they were transported to their school. There stood the large castle of Hogwarts, illuminated brilliantly from the inside. It so happened that the portkey had carried them to the school grounds. No sound or voice emerged from any corner, except perhaps the fifth year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs that were working on some Tentaculas in greenhouse three.

"Right, I'll leave you here, then," muttered Tonks, grinning at the three, "do take care, and don't let slip that this happened…not to anyone…maybe not everyone….well perhaps Dumbledore or…"

"We understand Nymphadora," interrupted Hermione, beaming at her.

"Don't call me by my first name, Hermione," she groaned.

Hermione nodded, and the three headed off to enter the castle.

They heard Tonks summoning her broomstick, and once it arrived, she clumsily mounted it, but in the end managed to kick off the ground, and soar high in the air.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione pushed the entrance gates open, and were thankful that no one was there.

"Some rescue mission we were on, huh?" spoke Ron, taking off his wool jacket.

"At least we learned something," added Hermione, "I'd better be going to the Hospital Wing; perhaps Madam Pomfrey would be able to completely cure the pain."

"Are you sure you can walk alone? Don't you want us to come?" asked Harry, keen to help his girlfriend.

"Yes, Harry. I'm sure," replied Hermione, and then began limping towards the Hospital Wing, after she waved goodbye.

Harry and Ron continued walking to their dormitories, for they needed to change into their school robes.

The common room was neat by now. Presumably, the house-elves had cleaned it after everyone woke up.

Harry hastened in taking off his jacket, and jeans. He nearly forgot about the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map, which were both concealed perfectly. He took out the Marauder's Map, stunned that the letters and figures weren't vanished yet.

"Mischief managed!" muttered Harry, tapping it with his own wand. Instantly, the writing and letters faded, and disappeared. He folded it quickly, placing it in the drawer. Then, Harry folded his Invisibility Cloak, set it in his trunk, and locked it.

He hurried back downstairs, carrying his schoolbag and wand, meeting with Ron.

"Let's just hope nobody asks too much questions," muttered Ron, and with that, they left the common room empty.

When Harry looked at his hand-watch, it was about ten thirty, and the two of them were due in Transfiguration. This made them even more anxious because they knew how strict Professor McGonagall was, and that she refused anyone being late to her class.

Finally, the Transfiguration door stood before them.

Ron swallowed a lump, and gently pushed the door open.

"Bloody hell!" shrieked Ron, as he saw a bug turn into a large grasshopper, and hopped out of the classroom.

"Come in Mr. Weasley, and you too Mr. Potter," spoke Professor McGonagall.

They both turned around to see the class working on transfiguring bugs into huge grasshoppers that stood at least seven feet tall.

They walked hastily to Professor McGonagall's desk, awaiting her questions.

"Sit," she instructed, and they both sat on wooden chairs.

"Professor…" began Ron, hopeful that she'll understand.

"Not a word Mr. Weasley," she snapped, "I'd like to know how you two, in addition to Ms. Granger, were late to my class, and I want a good reason that explains how you three didn't attend your first two lessons."

It seemed like Professor McGonagall's brain was flooding with questions.

"Professor," talked Harry calmly, "we were on a mission…a serious one."

"A mission? Like what, Mr. Potter?"

"I'm afraid Harry can't tell," muttered Ron uneasily.

"I'm afraid he must, or I shall take away several point from Gryffindor," said Professor McGonagall solemnly.

Harry had no other choice. Mad-Eye and Tonks told him not to tell anyone but Dumbledore about the incident, but since Professor McGonagall was a teacher, and a member of the Order, he saw no harm whatsoever in informing her.

"Professor, did you hear about Ron's brothers? Fred and George?" questioned Harry politely, putting down his schoolbag.

"No, what happened?"

"Well, if you've been with the Order lately," whispered Harry, "you would've known."

"Stop talking riddle-like Mr. Potter," requested Professor McGonagall, "and go ahead and tell me about it."

Ron glanced at Harry for a moment, frowning.

"Do you know the Death-Eater Dolohov?" inquired Harry, as he felt a grasshopper bite his leg. Professor McGonagall shrunk it into a bug once again.

"Mr. Potter, I'm the one who's asking questions…"

"I know, but well?" interrupted Harry.

"I certainly heard about him," replied Professor McGonagall, "he was a faithful servant of the Dark Lord."

"Fine," continued Harry, now relieved that Professor McGonagall had a clue about what he spoke, "Dolohov had kidnapped Fred and George in their own shop at Hogsmeade."

Professor McGonagall's glasses slipped down, and she sighed.

"He put them into enchanted sleep," added Ron, as Professor McGonagall turned to listen to him, "he also tied them with thick ropes that nearly stopped the blood circulation."

"So, we sneaked out of school last night," claimed Harry, feeling remorse.

"And then, we went to Honeydukes cellar, and slept there for the night," Ron went on, gaining some confidence.

"When it was morning, we took a bite at some food. After that, we headed straight to The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop…Fred and George's place," said Harry, lowering his voice.

"And what did you find there?" interrogated Professor McGonagall, so apprehensive by now.

"Well, we stepped inside and found no one there," continued Ron, "but when we went upstairs, we found Fred and George sleeping, and tied up in an old dust room."

"And out of nowhere came Percy," mouthed Harry.

"Percy?" asked Professor McGonagall, shooting them perplexed looks.

"In the end, it turned out to be fake. He was not Percy; he was Dolohov, having used the Polyjuice Potion as Hermione suggested," gossiped Ron.

"He trapped all three of us in a small room that my brothers called the Thinking Room," whinnied Harry.

"Each minute in there seemed like a whole hour," discussed Ron, "and we came with no resolution for so long."

"But then, Hermione blew up a glass window and enlarged it, so that we can slip through," explained Harry quickly.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, so surprised.

"Suddenly, Tonks arrived," lisped Ron.

"Tonks? That clumsy lady?" asked Professor McGonagall to be confirmed.

"Yes," responded Harry, "and she took out of that place, and we all were transported to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Harry and Ron were sure that Professor McGonagall didn't get a thing from what they have just mentioned.

"Very well, then," she spoke, breathing heavily, "but whatever happened to Antonin Dolohov?"

"He escaped," prattled Ron, "we reckon he flew on a crow."

She shot him a confused look, awaiting him to clarify his statement.

"Professor, remember months ago when the crows from Dark Valley attacked us?" questioned Harry, recalling that terrifying incident.

"Yes," she responded right away.

"Well, we're guessing that he flew on one of the crows, which we witnessed turning into a larger crow and speaking to us previously, and headed back to Dark Valley," mumbled Harry, desperate for the conversation to end.

For some moments, she was quiet and in thought.

"But didn't he tell you anything about the Dark Lord?"

"Nothing," mouthed Ron.

"He only told us that our clock was ticking," reminded Harry, grinning at Ron.

Professor McGonagall knew that she could say no more. Therefore, she dismissed them from the conversation, and they sat at the back of the class, transfiguring bugs into grasshoppers.

During lunch, Hermione showed up. Her leg was perfectly mended, and she could run again.

"So, what happened while I was away?" asked Hermione, sitting down beside Harry and Ron.

"You tell her," sputtered Ron, as he swallowed some chicken tenders.


	35. Angels from his Past

35 (Angels from his Past)

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had spent the rest of their day going through interrogations with different teachers. They looked sort of suspicious to Hagrid, who didn't notice them at breakfast earlier on. He kept asking them about where they went to repeatedly until at last, Ron gave up and told him the whole story. Not only was he shocked, but he nearly broke the china he was holding in his trembling hand. As soon as he heard, Hagrid instructed them to stay in the castle and treated them like they were babies. He wasn't to be blamed, because they were like his children and he wouldn't let them get themselves hurt.

" 'Ya keep yer mouth shut, yer eyes open, and ya better stick to the castle… an' don' get into no trouble' " Ron imitated Hagrid gladly, which caused Harry and Hermione to giggle.

"Really, why's he just telling us to be good boys?" wondered Ron, annoyed by Hagrid's lecture.

"As a teacher, it's his duty to keep us safe," responded Hermione, grinning.

"Teacher or not," interrupted Harry, "He'd better start treating us like adults, now."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, staring curiously at him.

"Where did this sudden over confidence come from?" asked Hermione calmly.

"I'm not overconfident, it's just that…"

"Harry, Hagrid's our friend and a teacher; we want pick a row with him," scoffed Hermione.

"Whoever mentioned picking a row with Hagrid?" questioned Ron, perplexed by her thinking.

She said no more, but instead, kept on walking until she reached the Potions class room. Ten minutes later Harry and Ron caught up with her. Definitely, she was sad about Hagrid. Everyone except Harry, Ron, Hermione, and few others treated him like an ugly great brute, who was obsessed with gigantic and miniscule monstrous creatures. Despite the fact of being a half-giant, Hagrid was always a good friend. Whenever emotional problems suddenly appeared at Hogwarts, he was the best source for soothing words and comfort.

Throughout their awfully long period, the students were paying careful attention to Professor Snape, fearful of losing some points. Over the past few days, Professor Snape grew more determined, demanding and strict. All of that change came back to the subject of pre-N.E.W.T testing. Nowadays, he spent most of the time talking about pre- N.E.W.T tests, and how they freaked sixth year students for the last few years. It was in the nature of Professor Snape to sort of intimidate the students and get the clock going.

For the rest of the lesson, he had all of them write the main points needed for the pre-N.E.W.T test. Snape just kept on dictating them how to focus during the tests, for they could be harder than normal exams. In addition to that, he mentioned something about reading the text book thoroughly, and being capable of enduring of a heavy load of potions studied in class. Most of all, Professor Snape fixed his mind on the Gloomy Bubble Portion which happened to be at N.E.W.T level.

"But Sir," squeaked Neville, "we're not seventh years, and we don't know how to brew a Gloomy Bubble Potion."

"Never interrupt me, Mr. Longbottom," cried Professor Snape sharply, "ten points from Gryffindor. Perhaps that will plug in some manners and help you understand that raising your hand is vital before making a comment."

Poor Neville; he sort of crouched in his seat his head below the level of any others.

Fearful of facing the same consequence, everyone continued on scratching their quills on parchment, as quiet as fish. Harry didn't dare to speak a word, because he was too tired to have a go at Snape and get reported. Therefore, forced by the rules, he kept on writing.

With every word he wrote, the intensity of information increased, and his mind was crammed. As he continued moving his quill, unbearable boredom came by. Harry was getting drowsy and he found his eyes shutting automatically, as if curtains were being pulled down.

The lights faded, and he found himself in a familiar place. He was meandering around a corridor that seemed to have along path. Harry was looking behind his shoulders, above his head, and beside him carefully. A door came to his sight. It was a tall door, made of mahogany. The door handle was silver, but rusty. Instantly, Harry unlocked the door and pushed it open. Pitch darkness came to his sight, and no sound emerged. The room was vacant, and Harry pointed his wand forward. Suddenly, tiny icicles formed on his nose. The air slowly became frosty, torturing Harry gladly. With every breathe he exhaled, he saw the cold air wrapping it. Then, Harry heard noises. They were the noises that he feared most in his life. Dementors were crawling near him, stretching out their hideous hands. Harry was nearly paralyzed that he dared not to move. He had a firm grip on his wand, but the muscles and nerves within didn't move. And then it came… the cries and shrieks of his mother, pleading for mercy. Another voice interfered; it was cold and evil. Voldemort was laughing, and with pleasure killed Harry's mother. Harry felt the intense cold take over him. He had no other chance but to surrender. The Dementors clutched his hands and grabbed his legs, painfully; he was being lifted in the air, approaching what he dreaded more than the Dementors. He was beginning to discern green light outlining the air. An image of a wolf appeared. Harry desperately tried to move his hands, getting out of the Dementors' grip, and then struggling to run away. Still, the wolf was haunting his mind, and a mouth opened at last. From the inside came a cold voice. It was deep and scary, nearly petrifying Harry. He felt his soul being sucked out, his heartbeats increasing their pace, his body so helpless and frail. He was falling…falling…passing on to the other world…

"Harry! Harry!" he suddenly heard a soft whisper, waking him up, and an elbow nudging him gently in the ribs.

He opened his eyes, though still wild. Harry was still feeling the frigid air surrounding him, and had a desire to cry out loud.

After several blurs, he found Professor Snape keeping direct eye contact with him. His eyes were determined, and his lips curled.

"Stay after class, Potter," muttered Snape indignantly through gritting teeth, "I would like to have a word."

Harry wished that he would be released before he heard another cruel complaint or comment from the twisted twit.

Ron and Hermione were glancing at him wondering if he was allright. But he spoke no word, and his fingers recalled their strength by holding on to the quill. Harry's fingers were virtually numb, and his breath was heavier than usual.

At last, the bell was sounded, and Professor Snape dismissed the class with the exception of Harry. He tried to sneak out unobtrusively; however, unfortunately, the Potions Master quickly locked the door with a deft wave from his wand, while Draco and his cronies left.

"Sit down, Potter," instructed Snape grimly, pointing at the table nearest to his desk.

Obediently but reluctantly at the same time, Harry scooted to that specific table and sat down, a dull expression on his face.

Shortly after that, Professor Snape approached him slowly, banged his fist on the table. Automatically, Harry jumped up with fury.

"Give me one good reason why you weren't paying attention in class!" mouthed Snape, enraged.

"I…I didn't mean to…"

"Don't you start stuttering now, boy," interrupted the Potions Master rudely.

"I dozed off," responded Harry, hesitatingly, tightening his fist.

"Why so?"

"I don't know!" yelled Harry irritably. "It just happened! No wonder how boring your lecture was!"

At that very instant, Professor Snape's eyes widened, as if symbolizing a threatening to kill.

"Boring? I suppose you should listen more carefully to my _boring_ explanation, because your future depends on it, as if I give a damn about it! At least it's better than lagging behind your friend Granger yearning for notes!" spluttered Snape.

"My future isn't going to depend on a repulsive, boring, dull subject! And if I need help from Hermione, she'll offer it kindly!" shouted Harry, stumping his foot on the ground.

"Pity, like father, like son," spoke Snape, grinning wickedly.

Harry ignored him, still burning from the inside.

"Enough of this nonsense," prattled Snape coolly, "tell me Potter…what did you see?"

"I was just dreaming," muttered Harry, "and it's none of your concern, by the way."

"Don't you mess with me, boy!" he shouted, exasperated.

Harry froze in his seat. He's never seen Professor Snape act as insane as this before. Although, he knew perfectly well how Snape loathed him just like his father.

Within some hasty heartbeats, the enraged Potions Master flicked his wand, summoning a small vial, containing a clear vivid liquid.

Veritaserum- thought Harry. Deep down, he knew its function. Once drank, Veritaserum would force one to speak the truth, and maybe even spill out his innermost secrets.

"Perhaps one sweet drop of Veritaserum would be enough to make your tongue speak the truth," mumbled Snape, taking off the lid.

"No…stop," whinnied Harry, his heartbeats pacing quickly.

"Stop? But you refuse to speak, Potter," chattered Snape, a grin of satisfaction showing on his greasy white face.

"Fine," squabbled Harry indignantly, "I nearly saw myself getting killed."

"Not nearly enough," argued Professor Snape," how?"

"I entered a murky room which was located on the eighth floor. It was so pitch dark that I couldn't see anything at all. Therefore, I lit my wand and…"

He stopped instantly, hesitating.

"Carry on," directed Snape, still holding Veritaserum in his greasy slippery hands.

"Dementors…everywhere," mouthed Harry heavily, "I couldn't move a single muscle, and then they carried me up in the air…"

"Interesting , continue," commented Snape, his eyes looking serious.

"I saw flashes of green light, and I heard Voldemort's voice," murmured Harry, afraid of the inevitable reaction.

"Do not speak the Dark Lord's name!" panicked Snape, giving Harry a usual chastisement.

Harry fell into silence, crossing his legs under the table.

"That's all…but I've had this dream before," confessed Harry solemnly, "there was more to it than just this."

"Really? Tell me about it," scowled Professor Snape, intrigued.

"I can't remember, exactly," lied Harry at once, for Snape was unbearable.

"Cease to lie!"

"I told you I can't remember!" acknowledged Harry, greatly enraged.

Moments of dead silence and suspicion passed by.

"Very well then," he mentioned," does anybody else know about this?"

"Ron and Hermione….and Firenze," answered Harry instantly, yearning to get out.

"Firenze? Oh yes, that must be the centaur. He's handy for fortunetelling, you know," muttered Snape, pushing up his black oily hair.

Momentarily, he ordered Harry to leave, which made him glad.

"Potter," quacked Snape in his cold voice for one more time.

"Yes, _Professor?_" he responded, patronizingly.

"My eyes will be watching you," he mentioned in a mysterious tone of voice, "I, too, am a member of the Order, Potter."

"Yeah, whatever," murmured Harry softly so that he was the only one who could hear himself talking.

Desperately, he grabbed the doorknob, pulled it down, finding his way out of the dungeons, slamming the door behind him. He was so sure that Snape would come cursing at the moment, but he was wrong.

As Harry left, thoughts flooded to his already troubled mind. Why was Professor Snape keen to know what he dreamed of? He gave up last year when Harry accidentally saw his thoughts of the past in his Pensieve. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore told him to be more careful around Harry and act as worthy as a guard. After all, there may come a day where the Headmaster is no longer among the living. Who then will be able to stop the evil powers and greed of Lord Voldemort?

Again and again, Harry's mind got full of exhausting thoughts and wonders. He was in dire need of a Pensieve.

"Hello, what was the old hag up to?" chattered Ron, as soon as Harry entered Greenhouse two.

"Nothing," he responded, hesitatingly, "just telling me off for not paying attention in his stupid class."

"Oh come now, Harry," whispered Hermione, "there's got to be more to it than that."

"Well, he questioned me about my dream," admitted Harry, putting his dragon hide gloves on.

"And?" interrogated Ron impatiently.

"What? I told him what I saw and that's that," explained Harry, slightly annoyed.

"What did you see, Harry?" asked Hermione, feeling a strong urge to know what he dreamed of.

"It was the same horrific dream I had a couple of months ago," pointed out Harry, "the one in which I get killed…"

There was silence for some moments under Professor Sprout's unceasing chattering.

"The one about what?" queried Ron.

"I'll tell you later," sighed Harry, exasperated, focusing on feeding the baby Toxiblossom some amber.

After the dreadful class was finally over, Harry cheered up by seeing some effective results of his, Ron, and Hermione's plan. They were clearly watching Crabbe and Goyle presenting Malfoy with the badge they bewitched to change the original letters; Crabbe and Goyle yearned for a higher reputation. Paradoxically, Malfoy was on flames. At first, when he took the badge from Crabbe's shaky sausage-like fingers, he grinned. But then, he smirked at the pair of them, enraged. When the huge Goyle bent down to squint at the miniscule writing, he was utterly stunned. Draco chased them like a chicken that had just lost her eggs, owing the need to beat them up and severely injure them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione threw great fits of laughter and giggles that were practically incessant, had not Professor Sprout came by and reminded them to leave before they would be late for the next lesson.

"Did you see his face? Just like his mother's…like dung was underneath his ungrateful nose!" chuckled Ron.

"It's about time, too," commented Harry, still giggling.

"Yeah, that was a fairly good repayment for all he had done throughout these years…there maybe more to think of," agreed Hermione, heading to the girls' bathroom.

"We sound just like the Marauders, don't we Harry?" asked Ron, a grin running up his beaming cheek.

Harry was still grinning, but quiet. The Marauders happened to be three of his beloved ones, in addition to a traitor, Peter Pettigrew. James Potter was none other than his father, who had died fighting Voldemort, trying to save his wife and son's life. Sirius Black, his passionate godfather, had been convicted for a crime he never committed; now he was gone. Remus Lupin, a fantastic teacher, was driven out of school due to Snape's prejudice of werewolves.

Later that day, Harry had explained his dream to Ron and Hermione. They have both remembered Harry informing them about it some months ago, but perhaps they needed to refresh their memory. Hermione, out of the goodness of her soul, had suggested seeing Firenze about the dream for advice when Harry last told them about it. Consequently, Firenze ceased to uncover Harry's future. In an abrupt manner of way, he cut off short, letting Harry's mind grow with apprehension.

"Last time you had this dream, you died…didn't you?" asked Hermione earnestly. Harry nodded.

"Funny, why would you die at first, but live this time?" wondered Ron, amazed.

"Perhaps you should…"

"I'm not going to Firenze again," muttered Harry irritably, causing an interruption for Hermione.

"Maybe you should see Trelawney; she's still living in that old hot room of hers in North Tower, you know," pointed out Ron sarcastically.

Of course, for all these months, Harry had completely forgotten the residence of Trelawney in the castle. Only last year, when the mad Professor Umbridge sacked her, Professor Dumbledore amicably asked her to stay in the castle, for she had intended to leave to somewhere else. Even so, why would he seek her advice? Long has she pleasantly told him of his approaching death; she found it very amusing, indeed.

By nightfall, which made Harry relieved, he crept into his bed, stretching out his hand to pet Hedwig for the last time before she took off to the Owlery. He was overwhelmed with feelings and thoughts. Madly, he thought that if he ever stepped into the incredible Room of Requirement, he would find a nice little object with silvery wisps above it, a Pensieve.

Through his light sleep, Harry' thoughts carried him back in time. He saw his mother and father smiling fervently at him and beside them was young handsome man that Harry didn't recognize instantly. He was carrying Harry, throwing him joyfully into the air, and then catching him again. There was always a childish grin on that face. In the dream, Harry noticed how familiar the eyes were. And then, he knew it. That man with a childish grin happened to be Sirius, his godfather. He also was an unforgettable school menace, and a dear friend of James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

Harry was so glad to see three of them, his mother, father, and Sirius. He was in such desperate need of them to sooth his pain and demolish his anguish. He wanted to meet his parents for one last time. Simultaneously, he blamed himself for Sirius's death. If Harry hadn't ignored him, and reached for behind the veil, Sirius would've still been living.

As the night sky grew blacker and starrier, Harry calmed down in his bed. He was mumbling vague words and phrases of greetings, love, and friendship.

You can do it son- Harry heard a voice in his head, his father's.

Don't give up to evil- there was another warm voice, his mother's.

Let the power of sacrificed love, care, and good will be at your aid when desperate to survive- he heard Sirius's voice this time.

You will vanquish the Wolf of the Eighth Floor, and sooner or later Voldemort will face the same fait- spoke James's urging and encouraging voice.

If you are destined to die, you shall die with pride- interfered Lily's warm voice.

Good luck, Harry- came a final voice, Sirius's.

After those last words, Harry fell into a completely blank world of only empty space. He was positively sure that a smile appeared on his face.


	36. Accidentally a Dragon

36 (Accidentally a Dragon)

"Harry! Harry! Come on, Harry! Wake up!" Harry's calm ears were being vastly vibrated as the sound waves of Ron's rough voice penetrated into his ear canal.

Reluctantly, Harry got out of bed, stretching his numb arms into the air.

"If you don't hurry up, we're going to be late," barked Ron, who was trying his best to untie the stuck knot on his shoe laces. Eventually, with the aid of a little bit of magic, he managed his goal, and soon zoomed in the air, dashing out of the boys' dormitory.

"As if you even care about being late," muttered Harry softly to himself.

As he got up, he felt a warm sensation crawl into his heart. The warm, friendly, and encouraging voices that he had heard last night in his head had a great effect on him. It virtually made Harry trust himself and have faith. He kept recalling his mother's sweet voice, so warm that he could almost taste it with his own tongue. And then, he stared into a mirror, observing his looks. Just like dad- Harry thought. Then, a little grin formed on his mouth, reminding him of the late Sirius. Together, James, Lily, and Sirius kept on popping in Harry's mind, gaining him the strength and power he yearns for.

A few minutes later, Harry grabbed the sword of Anystal and placed it carefully inside his robes. His wand sank through the immense black fabric, and he was off for another eventful day.

On his way, Harry noticed something rather unusual happening. Behind a stature of two wizards sharing the same body but without heads, Harry caught a glimpse of a furry ginger tail. Curiously, he scooted closer, intending to discover what was going on. To his total amazement, he saw Crookshanks wagging his tail high up, making a soft drone of a purr. And what made it even more surprising was that Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's dear cat, was right in front of him, lowering her head. Harry grinned, stunned by such queer outcome. Was Crookshanks beginning to like mean old Mrs. Norris? It could be…

A good while later, Harry entered the crammed Great Hall, a simple smile curved on his mouth. He forced his way through the immense throng, nearly tripping over Sandra Sanderson's shoe lace. A gleam of red hair finally came to his sight, and by that, he knew it was where he belonged.

"Hey Ron," spoke Harry amicably, "I've got something brilliant to tell you."

"What'?" Ron was chewing on some toothsome sausage.

"Crookshanks," mumbled Harry, grinning.

"The bloody hair ball…yeah, what about him?" asked Ron, disgusted by the foul name.

"I think he's gone mad," acknowledged Harry, his voice dropping into monotone.

"How so?" came a soft voice out of nowhere. The two boys looked up, and before them stood Hermione, awaiting a reasonable answer.

"Um…why were you eavesdropping?" queried Ron in an innocent voice, for he found no other sensible phrase to speak.

"Excuse me, but I happen to be the owner of that cat," chattered Hermione, sitting down, "but why's he mad, Harry?"

Harry was swallowing rather a heavy lump in his trembling throat. He was virtually in a dilemma now. If he told her, he thought that she'll lose her pet cat forever. Yet, as he thought again, if he didn't tell her, he'd be keeping a secret that would somehow confuse her.

"Should I tell?" questioned Harry, smiling bashfully at Ron.

"You don't need to ask him," commented Hermione, grinning, "I'm allowing you to speak up right now."

She turned her Arithmancy book to page five hundred and fourteen, while simultaneously listening closely to Harry.

"Very well," he began uneasily, "I ran into Crookshanks earlier this morning…not crashing into him, but….oh well, sneaked," admitted Harry awkwardly, slightly feeling remorseful.

"Go on, my ears are still with you," declared Hermione confidently, as her eyes moved like turbo speed from sentence to sentence.

"Anyway," continued Harry, squeezing some ketchup out of the bottle, and eyeing Ron, "I saw your cat…with Mrs. Norris."

Instantly, Hermione stopped her concentration on reading, and somehow abruptly averted her eyes, shifting to Harry, looking at him in total disbelief.

"Did he injure her? Did he bite her? Oh if something terrible happens to her Mr. Filch will skin Crookshanks till certain death…" she seemed so worried and apprehensive about her cat being vicious or savage.

"No, of course not," assured Harry, throwing a fit of giggles, "on the contrary, there seemed to be…some kind of intimacy between the pair of them."

Now, if Harry was not utterly mistaken, Hermione's widened like the horizon, her eyebrows rose, and her jaw fell wide open.

"Are you sure?" she inquired, incredulously.

"Positive," confirmed Harry, giggling as a smattering of peach pancake entered his mouth.

"Why that's brilliant! Absolutely fantastic!" cried Hermione, rejoicing.

"What? Are you insane?" shrieked Ron, choking on his sour pumpkin juice.

"That would be great, wouldn't it? Clever Crookshanks! I can't wait to see his cute cuddly little kittens!" quacked Hermione, overly excited.

"Are you out of your mind? He's got himself hooked up with an old, rotten, mean, no good, red eyed hag!" screeched Ron, sharing his point of view.

"Oh Ron stop this rubbish! I assure you that if you've still had Scabbers alive, and he found a mate, you would surely feel the same!" growled Hermione indignantly.

"Well, I would certainly not. After all, he turned out to be a great fraud, didn't he?" argued Ron, breaking his direct eye contact with Hermione, returning gladly to his unfinished meal.

Harry heard Hermione mumble something quietly under her breath, as she resumed reading.

Suddenly, hoots came from everywhere in the Great Hall. It was mail time, and owls convoyed down to the house tables.

A load of grey, red, and brown owls bypassed, until finally, Harry saw as shimmering white owl of amber eyes, Hedwig, heading his way.

She dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet, and scurried away to the school Owlery for some rest.

The first thing that caught Harry's eyes in a flash of microseconds was the headline.

FEAR IN HOGSMEADE GONE AT LAST

_Only yesterday, writes Rita Skeeter, 45, the Ministry of Magic had informed the numerous villagers, shopkeepers, and residents of Hogsmeade village that their piece of land was safe once again. It's been quite a while since the Ministry announced the presence of a vicious, mass murderer, a Death Eater, by the name of Antonin Dolohov, at Hogsmeade. For the past few weeks, he had gladly taken refuge in a recently build shop, _The Golden Wheezer Jokeshop. _ After days and days of threatening, no one heard no more. The case remains mysteriously resolved._

_Now, miraculously, Dolohov has disappeared from sights to all's relief, bringing back soothing serene sensations of normalcy. It was reported that Antonin Dolohov had the intentions to demolish Hogsmeade village into smithereens- for a while- but we were wrong. Little of us know what purpose the Death Eater came for. Yet, the majority of citizens have a shrewd idea that it had definitely something to do with the service of He Who Must Not Be Named. Furthermore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and current Minister for Magic, Albus Dumbledore, assures everyone to resume their business._

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were so happy to read this bit of news. Simultaneously, they thought that Professor Dumbledore denied something about the role they played. Or morel likely, it was Ron who was slightly indignant. He thought that the Order should have told him something.

"Wow, at least Percy could enjoy the last remaining days of his honeymoon," chuckled Hermione.

"But what's more shocking is the name in the article," pointed out Ron, indicating Rita Skeeter.

"And I thought she kept her promise, Hermione," argued Harry, mystified, borrowing a copy of _The Quibbler_ from Dean Thomas.

"Well, frankly she did. At least it's not a bunch of lies and made up stories put all together in an absurd way of writing," explained Hermione, still glancing at the name.

More or less, it reminded her of fourth year. Rita Skeeter, who happened to be a cunning Daily Prophet reporter, had a bad habit of reporting lies and non existing events. Of course, what made Hermione more apprehensive was that Rita had listened to the most private conversations, and yet, at that time, Hermione had not the slightest idea how she managed it. At the end of the year, however, cleverly, Hermione discovered that Rita Skeeter was an illegal Animagus, or perhaps, one that didn't register in the Ministry. She had the form of a little beetle, and the markings on her antennas were very identical to those that lay on her glasses. Eventually, Hermione sealed the beetle in a jar, assured that she won't be able to transform by means of an Unbreakable Charm.

"But who got her back into writing?" questioned Ron, still perplexed.

"Oh come now, Ron," muttered Harry, irritably, "she did us a favour last year when we told her to write about me and Voldemort."

Ron winced at the name.

An old man arose from his chair, gazing at the crowd from behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Your attention please," squeaked Professor McGonagall.

Every eye was drawn to the Headmaster.

"Thank you Minerva," said Dumbledore amicably, "I would like to announce a change in plans. Due to the current safety of Hogsmeade, as probably many of you should've known by now from the newspapers, I see no harm in a visit."

The whole lot of students was crying out loud: yeah. They looked so relieved and cheerful.

"Yes, cheer up," continued the Headmaster through his warm soothing voice," but I'd like to notify you that the next trip is scheduled to be on the fourteenth of February, as the staff and I had previously planned."

Virtually, all girls started looking around at boys, who in turn, grinned.

Professor Dumbledore nearly sank back into his seat, when something else came to his mind.

"Ah, listen everyone," he said, "although the circumstances allow you to visit the village, I must assure you…constant vigilance is of fundamental need…evil and danger will always be lurking around. Therefore, take my word, and be cautious."

That last statement he announced might've raised the feelings of anxiety and apprehension in some nervous souls. What seemed like despair ruined the joy in a couple of students.

"Constant vigilance? He's sounding like Mad-Eye, now," pointed out Harry.

"And I think he's forgetting something else," said Ron, eyeing Harry and Hermione in a mysterious kind of way.

"What?" asked Harry, rather intrigued.

"Us! Has Tonks told him nothing of what we have done?" wondered Ron.

"How do you know she hasn't?" questioned Hermione.

"Be thankful, Ron," affirmed Harry earnestly, "if Dumbledore knew, he'd lock us in our dormitories and ban us from exiting the school, fearful of losing our necks."

"Yeah, but why is he so Ok with it? Don't we deserve an award or something?"

"Honestly, Ron, all you aim for is a taste of fame. Why are you acting like a hero or something? Besides, we got trapped in the end, didn't we? We got made fools of by Dolohov. Had not Tonks showed up, we could've been stuck in there for ages," argued Hermione matter-of-factly, shutting her Arithmancy book.

"So? You came up with a brilliant idea, and it worked," gossiped Ron.

"What about Dolohov? Did we capture him, Ron? Did we hand him over to the Dementors? And your brothers…we didn't cure them, we just brought them back safely."

"That counts for something!"

"Ron!"

Harry's hands flew in the air, covering both of their mouths.

"Haven't we agreed previously to stop absurd arguments like this?" he asked, merely through gritted teeth.

They hushed up after shooting glares at each other for a while.

"Now, what exactly are we going to do on the fourteenth of February?" questioned Harry to be reassured.

"Well, we're going to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day," muttered Ron briskly, "and…that's it."

"Are you forgetting something, Ron?" inquired Hermione, pulling her hair into a ponytail.

"No," responded Ron, still thinking of a way to avoid trouble.

"It's something we fought over and over about," lisped Hermione, and when it hit Ron, he spoke again.

"Oh…right, Winky," reminded Ron amicably, but disappointed from the inside.

Truly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone over this more than a dozen times, and yet, Ron still despised the idea of visiting a mad mania. However, he knew that he carried furthermore with his stubbornness, Hermione would do her nut, and their friendship would become strained.

"Good morning class," spoke Harry, grinning at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fourth years.

"Good morning…Harry," replied the crowd in a loud voice; they intended to call him 'Professor' but they knew he was too young to be called one. Besides, it was his wish to call him by his name only.

Harry walked slowly to his desk, trying to remember the topic of today's lesson. In a flick of a second it hit him.

"Now, we have previously tried out Shield Charms, have we not?" queried Harry, beaming at the class.

"Yes," they chanted back.

"Well, today, we shall be learning two other spells that you use to defend yourselves," explained Harry earnestly, "you might call them charms…or spells…well whatever…what's more important is that you need to prefect them."

Every eye was intrigued, and soft laughter was sounded. The students were used to Harry's frequent sense of humour, except that sometimes he wasn't in the mood for it.

"Who here knows something about the Reducto curse?" requested Harry, having a feeling that somebody might be as shy as Neville to speak the answer.

And there he was, crouched in his seat, Michael Archy.

"Michael, do you know the answer?" asked Harry amicably, having a flashback of Neville who was just about to tangle with a Boggart in the first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in third year.

"I…I think so," squeaked the boy, sitting upright, "the Reducto curse is used to blast away solid objects…possibly."

Harry was virtually impressed by his succinct answer.

"Marvelous, Michael. Ten points to Ravenclaw!" chattered Harry fervently.

After the students were done clapping, Harry grabbed his wand for a quick demonstration.

"Sometimes in life, Aurors, Dark wizard catchers, that is to say," reported Harry solemnly, "face solid objects that stand as impediments, obstacles in their way. Those obstacles will need to be moved to make the Auror free to act. By the way, this doesn't just concern Aurors, but everyone…every magical person who finds themselves in terrible trouble."

With a hasty wave of his wand, Harry summoned a box that was placed on the top shelf of a cabinet, and then set on the ground.

"Watch closely," instructed Harry as he raised his wand higher in the air. "_Reducto!"_

Immediately, a jet red spark of light shot out of the tip of his wand, and hit the box. Instantly, the box was transported all the way across the room to the left corner of the classroom.

"See? Quite easy, huh?" commented Harry sentimentally. "It's essential to have the curse come out from the bottom of your heart, students. Also, try your best to focus your concentration on the object moving away from its original place."

The message seemed sensible enough to the students.

"Now, who would like to have a go?" Harry posed a question, glancing at the tense-like students. "Samantha Elly, over here please."

The Hufflepuff girl looked so embarrassed and nervous, although she knew that it was a piece of cake.

Hastily, but anxiously, she scurried along the aisle, shooting some of her friends dull looks, coming up front.

"That's it, right in this spot," Harry directed her to stand on the X he had drawn with his wand, "see that cage over there?"

"Yes," she responded after eyeing a rusty old worn bird-cage.

"I want you to blast it away all over to that chest," said Harry, turning her eyesight away.

She nodded, and took out her wand. For a second, she seemed reluctant. Her mouth opened but the incantation wouldn't come out.

"Give it a try, Samantha," mentioned Harry briskly, "you won't lose your neck."

Her wand rose two inches above the level of her neck, and she was utterly ready.

"_Reducto!"_ she roared loudly, and within heartbeats, a beam of red light was released from her wand. She looked at the still box, while simultaneously imagining its movement to the chest. Then it worked. Once the red light touched the surface of the box, it began spinning, and like lightning, it flew to the chest.

"Well done, Samantha! Ten points to Hufflepuff!" cheered Harry joyfully.

At the very same instant, there was applause.

"Allright, now we'll move on to the next brand of magic," notified Harry, "it's called the Impediment Jinx."

There was a murmur of interest amongst the students.

"Does anybody have a background about it?"

"Yes sir," came a high pitched excited voice, the voice of Wallace Peterson. arHarrHjjjdlkdkdk

"Go on," mumbled Harry.

"It's used to slow down motion of objects that are usually heading in one's way. I've read it in the _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4,_" he explained thoroughly.

"Nice," Harry beamed, thinking of him as a younger version of Hermione, "five points to Ravenclaw!"

Cheers emerged from every corner, and Wallace had a smile running up his cheeks.

"Now, a performance," informed Harry looking for a volunteer, "Miss Rose, up here if you don't mind."

A girl with spiky but _cool _neck length blonde hair, by the name of Bell Rose, left her seat deserted, marching ahead.

"So Bell, you do know how to perform as simple Stunning spell, don't you?" he interrogated.

"Yes sir," replied the girl.

"Good. I want you to Stun me now," joked Harry, grinning.

"Sir?" she asked perplexed, thinking how foolish it would be to Stun a teacher.

"You heard," responded Harry, leaning against his desk and clutching his wand tightly.

Reluctantly, Bell stepped back and took her wand out of her robes. She was hesitating, fearful of any harsh consequence.

"On with it," said Harry impatiently.

"_Stupefy!_" cried Bell Rose, as a jet red beam of light struck out of her wand.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" bellowed Harry in a very loud voice, and everyone saw a beam of bluish purple light shooting out of his wand.

The observation was not obscure but vivid clear in nanoseconds. As soon as the bluish purple light made contact with the red one, it began to gradually decrease its pace. Moreover, the Impediment jinx demolished the speed of the Stunning spell, which never harmed Harry.

"_Deletrius!_" muttered Harry, quite a while after the students witnessed the red beam of light hovering slowly in the air.

"Good work, Bell," mentioned Harry, returning her to her seat again, "now, what did you think of that?"

Sighs emerged, followed by wide grins.

"Should stop any mummies, Blast-Ended Skrewts, or Dementors from attacking you," giggled Harry, placing his wand back in his robes.

Shortly after that, Harry had the students form a line. The one at the front was assigned to block any spells, hexes, charms or jinxes aimed at him by means of the Impediment jinx.

The first to have a go at it was a Ravenclaw with combed brown wavy hair and a pair of sky-blue eyeglasses, William Frank. He had Harry right behind him for encouragement, and put some confidence in himself. Over and over, William faced all sorts of magic, repelling any spells, curses, hexes, charms, or jinxes by utilizing the effective Impediment jinx, slowing down their rate. Except in the end, a clever, or more likely cunning boy from Hufflepuff, Samwise Flemming, had intended to cast fire on William, only at the very last instant, he changed his mind into Stunning him. Poor William; he was totally deceived, and consequently, he had two beams of jet red light penetrate his chest. Immediately, he fell to the floor, groaning in pain; his eyeglasses fell off, and the glass virtually shattered. His honey-brown wavy hair came scratching his eyelids. More or less, William had been knocked out.

"See here," mouthed Harry, "it wasn't William's fault, nor was it Sam's. Many wizards and witches all around this world would possess tricky minds…cunning enough to tap you right where they want you."

Speedily, Harry kneeled down to the unconscious boy.

"_Enervate!_" at once, William was revived. For ten seconds or so, he was kind of lost, staring around him as though he didn't recall what happened to him two minutes ago. It was so conspicuous from his looks that he was in deep confusion. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, squinting to see only Harry's blur.

"_Reparo!_" muttered Harry, mending the boy's eyeglasses. Quickly, the remnants of the broken glass pulled themselves together, making it appear as good as new.

"Thanks…" murmured William softly, putting on his mended glasses.

Before he could even get up, Harry summoned a jewelry box left over from the days of Gilderoy Lockhart, who had been Harry's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in his second year; all he ever cared about was himself. Magically, Harry unlocked it, and took out a piece of chocolate among a very big collection of sweets.

"Here, have a bite, William," instructed Harry, amicably offering the chocolate bar to the boy, "it will only help you get better. No one blames you for your lapse; it happens all the time."

The nervous boy gradually ate the chocolate and got up on his feet with the aid of Harry. Off to his seat he returned. For some seconds, Harry threw the chocolate wrapper into a dustbin nearby his desk, and magically forced he jewelry box to its original place.

"Very well, everyone," said Harry clearly, "so far today, you've learnt two of the major incantations of fundamental importance, the Reducto curse, and the Impediment jinx. They are no doubt necessary and helpful to use whenever Dark magic is around. Furthermore, I should say that as beginners, I am rather impressed with your…"

THUD!

Harry heard something crash into the classroom's door. From the immense impact, Harry had a shrewd idea that whatever hit the door was something large and vastly heavy.

"Everyone, move behind me," notified Harry, still eyeing the door. Some wood pieces were torn out of the door, falling like rain to the floor.

Obediently, the vexed students scooted around the classroom, leaving behind their belongings and books, convoying behind Harry and congregating around his desk.

Carefully, holding up his wand, Harry proceeded to the door. As soon as he stretched out his hand to grab the doorknob, he found the whole door falling over him. Luckily, Harry managed to crawl away hastily backwards. He could distinctly hear the shrieks and gasps of the fourth years, but he could not see properly. The problem was that, unfortunately, his glasses slipped away.

"AAAAARGH!" came the loud cries from behind him.

Harry felt a strong urge and curiosity to know what was frightening them. He was desperate to reach his glasses, so he started moving around in circles on the floor, eyeing nothing but a blur of colors and images. At last, he caught a glimpse of his reflection through something that looked like a small mirror. Speedily, Harry snatched his glasses from the middle, set it on his eyes, and sighed when he heard a scary heavy breath.

Slowly and cautiously, as he turned around, Harry was absolutely astounded. Before him stood an eight feet tall dragon. It had sharp terrifying yellow eyes, with slits, like a cat's, for pupils. Overall, it had a scarlet bloody color for the scaly body. What Harry noticed more to that was two green razor sharp horns sticking out from its head. The scales that were displayed had sort of the sea-wave pattern. A long strong tail was moving rapidly behind the dragon's back.

Quickly, as if seeking vengeance, the great dragon forced its way through the tight classroom, wrecking the place and shattering every table and chair that stood in its way. Textbooks and bags came flying into the air, much like a fountain's water.

Scared though he was, Harry had responsibility over the horrified students. As a teacher, he knew he had to act and do something to get rid of this horrid shock.

Suddenly, the big hideous reptile-like creature widened its mouth, revealing the pitch blackness from the inside. Harry discerned something like a small flame that was expanding in size. He was correct; the dragon shot a ball of flames that must've been three feet in diameter.

"IMPEDIMENTA!" shouted Harry, automatically slowing down the attacking fire.

He did succeed, only that enraged the furious dragon even more. It indignantly brought out its huge thick tail, carrying Harry about six feet above the ground, and then smashing his back on the harsh floor. Harry couldn't help but wince, groan, and moan with excruciating pain. He felt as if his spine split in two halves. Yet, he rolled on the floor, staring at the paralyzed students, his eyes begging for some help.

_If Hagrid was the one who let loose this dragon,_ thought Harry, _I'll kill him._

Helplessly, he rushed to the front, intending to protect his students by all means necessary, even if it required sacrificing himself.

The dragon was now bending down on all fours, preparing for a sudden attack. Simultaneously, Harry kept focusing on what to do. His mind was utterly puzzled, and he had no idea how to act. And then, a rather obscure but brilliant idea was floating to his trembling head. He knew he could use it. Otherwise, Harry and the students could inevitably be toasted by the dragon's flames.

"PROTEGO!" Harry yelled out the first thing to come to his mind.

It happened to be the helpful Shield Charm. At once, an invisible protecting wall covered him and the students, surrounding them all.

The dragon's fury had perfectly increased, and he was flapping his large leather-like wings, conjuring what seemed like a destructive hurricane.

Harry knew that he couldn't hold up much longer; he needed help as soon as possible…

Momentarily, his prayers were answered.

"GOOD HEAVENS!" shrieked an old lady with a sharp terrified voice.

When Harry looked through the barrier, he saw Professor McGonagall waving her wand briskly, pointing it at the dragon's back. She was horrorstruck.

What she had done was of course to Harry's aid; she Transfigured the savage dragon into a little harmless white bunny.

"Oh Potter! Are you allright?" she questioned in a shaky voice, watching the bunny hop out of the wrecked classroom.

"I'm…fine, and so are the students," responded Harry weakly. Although he managed to repel the vast flame ball, he suffered severe interior bruises and wounds. The pain was stinging like a kiss of cold. Harry wasn't able to walk freely, thus he was staggering.

"Come with me, Potter," babbled Professor McGonagall hotly, wrapping his arm around her old stiff shoulders and at the same time shooting the fourth years horrorstruck looks, "everyone…class dismissed."

As Professor McGonagall gently escorted Harry to the Hospital Wing, she explained the reason behind the dragon's presence in his class.

"Forgive me, Potter…that dragon came from my classroom," she said, as she watched some Hufflepuffs bypass them.

"From…your class, Professor?" he asked in a stunned voice, trying to be polite.

"Yes, Potter," she responded hastily, "I was demonstrating how to magically hatch an egg, revealing a one legged chicken. I did succeed and everyone was satisfied, but then, when it was their turn to try…oh, mercy…Mr. Malfoy did something wrong."

"Purposefully, I suppose," suggested Harry, grimacing.

"One simple mistake in the direction of the wand movement and clarity of his voice was enough for a wicked outcome," she explained indignantly, "we ended up having a loose dragon in the room. Mind you, it was only baby-sized when it first hatched, but we eye witnessed it growing rapidly as it headed to the door…it nearly didn't get out of the door. I tried to Stun it, but of course, you would need half a dozen people at least to Stun a dragon that size. It escaped my eyes before I even knew it, and…"

"…broke into my classroom," he finished off her sentence.

"I'm terribly sorry Potter," confessed Professor McGonagall, yet again, "I would've never forgiven myself if you got hurt….things just got out of my hands!"

"It's allright…really, Professor. You shouldn't be taunting yourself…it's Malfoy who deserves a fair chastisement," he moaned, grinning.

"Yes…yes, perhaps it was his fault," she merely agreed with his point, "I might as well deduct some points from his house! I can't stand the way he means sabotage!"

Deep down, Harry was more or less glad that Malfoy was going to cost his house a few points. Still, it didn't cure his pain.

Gently, Professor McGonagall set Harry on a bed in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey came dashing between the two rows of beds.

"What's the matter Minerva?"

"A dragon…" she hesitated, "it injured him all over from the inside…I think he's broken some limbs."

The school matron's rigid old face went instantly pale.

"A dragon?" she gasped. "Here at Hogwarts?"

"It's a long story, Poppy!" interrupted Professor McGonagall heatedly. "Now, could you fix his problem here?"

"Certainly," she muttered, pressing on Harry's rib cage.

"OUCH!" he winced, as he felt a wave of spasm run through his bones.

"Mmm…broken limb," observed the matron, moving her stiff hand to Harry's back.

"Ow! That hurt!"

"Aha, spine disorder…right here," she concluded, "well, I've got just what you need, Potter."

She skedaddled away to a storage cabinet, taking out a big silvery bottle having an orange top, in addition to a mug and a thin stirrer.

When she came back to the bed, Harry was holding himself together, for the pain was no doubt unbearable. Hastily, she poured thick orange syrup out of the bottle into the glass. Momentarily, it began evaporating. She stuck in the stirrer, and the color altered into glimmering emerald green.

"Better drink it up while the bubbles are coming out, Potter. Drink it all at once," directed Madam Pomfrey, forcing the glass up Harry's mouth.

Desperate for an immediate cure, Harry's tongue received the thick orange liquid and pulled it back to his rough throat. He didn't feel the taste, but instead kept rushing it down to his esophagus. Then, when there was scarcely left liquid, the taste came to Harry's mind. His brain sent messages to his wet tongue, informing him that what he had just drank was absolutely foul. The orange liquid's taste was much composed of rotten bananas, spoiled eggs, raw beef, and possibly other magical solutions. That was one good reason why he loathed being in such place.

Eventually, Harry managed to empty the glass, leaving some drops on the surrounding walls of it.

"Sweet dreams," murmured Madam Pomfrey, snatching his glass, leaving him to himself.

He didn't get it at first, but then instantly knew what was happening to him. Evidently, he felt some dizziness in his head. A sleepy sensation came on. Tired as he was, Harry's eyes slowly went down, blocking all lights; he was fast asleep.

"Harry…Harry, mate, wake up," he heard an anxious voice shaking his ears.

The curtains of his sleepy eyes were lifted up, and then he saw two friends sitting on either side of him on the bed.

"How are you feeling, Harry? Allright?" that was Hermione's voice.

He didn't feel like talking, therefore Harry just nodded his head in agreement.

"We came as soon as we hear," notified Ron briskly, providing some support to Harry as he sat up, "McGonagall was so furious with Malfoy that she could've turned him into a stinking pig if she desired!"

"Yeah, he's got himself landed in detention for five evenings," chattered Hermione, a grin of satisfaction on her face.

"That ought to teach him a lesson," moaned Harry, winking. "Did he get angry?"

"No," quacked Ron, giggling, "he kept denying that it was his fault. He said that it was an accident."

"Originally, McGonagall put him in detention for tomorrow's evening only," laughed Hermione, "but as he kept on talking, she added more evenings to extend the period of time. He was so red!"

Harry was in a fit of soft giggles, very impressed with his teacher's reaction.

"So, is it true what we heard? Is your classroom total trash by now?" joked Ron, insensitively.

"That's no laughing matter, Ron," argued Hermione, "Harry and the students could've been slain. Speaking of which, what happened to them, Harry?"

"Them?" asked Harry. "They got luck enough to not have a single scratch on their cheeks."

"How so?" queried Ron, intrigued.

"Well, before McGonagall showed up late for the show, I couldn't have let the students get killed, could've I? No, I risked my own neck protecting them…"

"How noble," commented Hermione.

"…I repelled the flame ball it tossed at me with the Impediment jinx. But then, cunningly, it hit me with its tail. I thought I was in heaven when the shark spikes didn't touch me…then, when I found no other way to stop him, I tried the Shield Charm. It worked for a minute, but then I was on my nerves…McGonagall came lagging after the dragon, and she Transfigured him into a rabbit."  
"Whoa!" whispered Ron, fascinated.

"It's a wonder you didn't get killed," murmured Hermione in relief.

Later in the afternoon, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had their last lesson of the day, Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid seized Harry from his arm, and pushed him hastily into his cabin.

"Easy…" muttered Harry, rubbing his arm.

"Are ya allright, Harry? I was so worried when Professor McGonagall told me! I thought I left one of me dragons chain-loose, an' it attacked ya!"

"One of your dragons?" asked Hermione, perplexed.

"Have you got a collection?" added Ron. "Hagrid, don't tell me Norbert is fully grown now, and decided to do Harry in."

"O'course not, Ron," objected Hagrid, "I don' have no dragons…anyway, she then told me abou' Malfoy…"

"So, what do you think?" inquired Harry sarcastically.

"What do I think? Harry, ya nearly got yerself ripped in half by the ruddy beast. Grown up dragons don' do no good…they jest hunt for meals, and can be really vicious 'round youngsters like you three," grunted Hagrid matter-of-factly.

"Had it been you Hagrid, you would've been delighted to pet the dragon, right?" joked Ron, as Hermione nudged him in the ribs. Honestly, he didn't mean any offense.

Shortly after the safety lecture from their big friend, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exited through the front door, saying goodbye, heading to the castle.

"Hagrid's so obsessed with dragons he thinks he's got a herd of them in the Forbidden Forest," giggled Ron; Harry and Hermione joined him in laughing.


	37. The Noble Rangers of the South

37 (The Noble Rangers of the South)

The following day was fairly amusing at Hogwarts. Peeves, the Poltergeist, was teaching some first years the best ways to scare the daylights out of someone. He didn't recommend what nearly all of them suggested, to jump suddenly in front of someone's face and yell like a maniac. The reason behind that, as Peeves gladly explained, was that some people had very strong hearing senses, therefore knowing if someone was sneaking up on them from the back. Instead, Peeves suggested something that could be carried out in everyone's dormitory, boys' and girls'.

"Nah," joked Peeves hysterically, "ya don' wanna act like fools jumpin' in front of a lad. Yeh wanna surprise 'em. To do so, all ya gotta do is simply mutter somethin' in yer magical riff-raff, in order ter make three hideous masks appear outta nowhere. After ye've done that, charm them masks ter hover into one o' the lads' closets, an' when they open it, goodness knows what'll happen!"

And by that, Peeves flew away guffawing at the first years like a buffoon. The little ones did seem a bit exhilarated by his stunning idea. No wonder why they were glancing nervously at each other. Now, probably no one will have enough courage to touch the closet handle to purchase some socks.

"Fred and George would be certainly pleased if they heard this," babbled Ron as he and Harry entered Charms classroom. Hermione had headed them off to class, saving them their usual seat at the back.

"Hello," began Harry, taking off his torn schoolbag, sitting on the left side of Hermione. Ron lazily took out his book, which was missing a few ripped pages, finding Professor Flitwick's squeaking only just bearable.

"Hi, what took you so long?" demanded Hermione, neatly decorating her piece of clean parchment with borders.

"We were spying on Peeves," spoke Ron, giggling softly so that Flitwick wouldn't hear him.

"He was teaching a group of first year Hufflepuffs a trick," added Harry, taking out his textbook, quill, and ink bottle.

"What trick?" questioned Hermione anxiously, as she quickly raised her hand to answer a question.

After she was done, and that seemed to take ages, Harry and Ron resumed their little private chatting.

"Peeves was telling them hot to scare the wits out of their mates properly," murmured Ron, a grin rushing up his mouth.

Hermione inevitably disapproved of Peeves's mischievous attitude. She felt a dire urge to act as a prefect and report him.

"How disappointing," objected Hermione, hissing in a lower tone, "you might as well told Dumbledore about it. Especially you Ron…since you're a prefect."

"For what?" enquired Ron sarcastically.

"To put some manners into him," whispered Hermione indignantly and in a matter-of-factly way," he's got to cease the foolishness. You know, I think his uncle, Gadzy, was right to punish him by turning into him into a lousy poltergeist."

"Hermione," lisped Harry, "Peeves has been doing this for years and years. Who ever gave a damn about him? I know McGonagall scolded him a couple of times, but he got away…at least temporarily, didn't he?"

"Yeah," agreed Ron, "Hermione, could you stop acting like a noble ambitious prefect for once in life and let things go the way they want to go?"

"How could you say this? You're a prefect and it's your duty to report anything that goes berserk in this school! Anything you find powerful enough to ruin little children's helpless minds! And you Harry…you're a teacher now! The Bloody Baron will be at your service to scare Peeves into leaving this school forever!" glowered Hermione, enraged.

She kept glaring at the pair of them throughout the lesson, while scarcely listening to Professor Flitwick's screeching, intending to continue on the argument until some discipline showed up. Nevertheless, she, as a prefect and a _model_ student, ignored their frowns and listened more carefully to the short teacher's explanation.

The class was finally over and the sixth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws have been able to learn the Sinkle Charm, which had the function of drowning anything made of flesh or bone, heavy or light, soft or rough, tiny or spacious underwater. All that enthusiastic squeaking Professor Flitwick did was just proving how the charm worked.

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione bypassed some of the nasty Slytherins, they noticed Crabbe and Goyle apologizing to Malfoy, as if they were house-elves ready to punish themselves for eternity, trying their best to convince him that it wasn't them. Still, Malfoy's stubbornness was of solid unbreakable rock that was beyond they knew.

"How magnificent," came an eerie cold voice, "turning the friends against their pal?"

Apprehensively, the three spun around to see a long black cloak that covered an annoyingly wicked teacher, Professor _Snivelly_, as Harry's father used to patronize him.

"What were you three thinking?" he asked furiously.

"What are you talking about?" questioned Harry in an innocent tone of voice, trying his best to burry the truth.

"What have you done?"

"Nothing," squeaked Ron, slowly gaining courage from Harry's appearing smirks.

"Honestly, Professor Snape," mumbled Hermione confidently, "why would we interfere in the business of whom we despise?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it Miss Granger?" he growled vehemently. "Naturally, enemies loathe each other and would come up with the most intricate and hazardous set ups. Believe me, girl, I've been deceived in my youth."

"That's only because you were too nosy to follow Sirius," squabbled Harry.

"Deten…" began the Potions Master, intending to put Harry in detention. However, he knew that he was a teacher now, and could not be in detention whatsoever, neither can he lose his house some points because of him.

"Not us; we mind our own business," prattled Ron sensibly.

For some moments, the grease ball stared at him, like a mountain eagle exposing its talons ready to sink them into the bare flesh.

"Very well," gossiped Snape, an evil grin appearing on his face, "Weasley, Granger, detention!"

Ron and Hermione more or less gasped at him, as though he just lost his mind.

"As for you, Potter," continued Snape coolly, "I shall have a word with your Head of House or even the Headmaster. Perhaps one of them or both could bring you back to your old position in this ancient school. Only then, I would be most pleased to take away some points…"

He confidently marched away, his head raised high up.

"What's gone into him?" enquired Ron angrily, perplexed. "How did he ever know that we had something to do with the stinking scum?"

"I guess it's obvious," suggested Hermione, "we were giggling loudly like clown back there."

"Yeah, but what made us look so suspicious?" asked Harry, frowning.

"What had I just said?" asked Hermione, a rush of exasperation glowing on her forehead.

"But I'm telling you, ever since Harry got made a teacher, he snapped…just like that (he clicked her fingers to symbolize it). Snape's got it in for us!" squabbled Ron irritably.

"Ron, Snape's a member of the Order," declined Hermione reasonably, "and besides, how many times do I have to repeat this point? How many times have we accused Snape when he merely endangered our lives?"

Ron smirked, and left Harry and Hermione outside the grassy Divination classroom, fitted for Firenze's habitation.

"One minute," whispered Harry, as Hermione dragged him from his sleeves.

He slowly stepped into the garden-like class, careful not to squash any roses. Some students, along with Ron, were beginning to arrive, carrying about three textbooks in one hand, and their schoolbags hung over the other shoulder, settling down under the immense shadow of a huge pine tree.

"Hello Firenze," muttered Harry, as he saw the centaur carving a wooden bird.

"Harry Potter," he replied amicably, "what a pleasant surprise."

"I was just wondering…" spoke Harry, smelling the scent of oranges and pomegranate dangling down from the trees.

Instantly, he became lost for words. He did not desire to tell him about the dream. Harry wanted to inform him about how it wasn't completely identical or similar to the last time he had it. Still, he remembered how furious he got when the centaur refused to tell him the last bit of the answer.

"Yes?" came Firenze's dreamy voice.

"Oh…" said Harry hesitatingly, "I…I wanted to be reassured…is Ron really good at arrow shooting?" he sounded a bit sheepish, but actually, his fake voice was way out of course.

"Stunningly splendid," responded the centaur, nodding his head, "splendid indeed. I see that your red headed friend is believed to be a natural. He's got the Eye."

"Er…the Eye?"

"The Eye that sees beyond a particular target, Harry Potter," explained Firenze earnestly, shaking off some autumns leaves on his back, "you would've known if you continued studying the noble art of Divination."

Harry grinned fleetingly, and then turned away to leave. However, he heard the centaur's hoofs bang recklessly against the green grass.

"Harry Potter," said Firenze calmly, moving away from the chattering students, "something in your way of speech and a cloudy sensation in your eyes informs me of some uneasiness buried within your soul."

Harry felt that Firenze was utterly reading his mind.

"Um…no, everything's fine," protested Harry in a lie, sweating for some brief seconds.

The determined centaur still gazed directly into Harry's green eyes. Firenze's facial expressions virtually told Harry something vague…about his horrid dream.

_No_, protested a sound in Harry's head, _the only way he can communicate with me is through talking…and he's not doing any. His mouth's perfectly sealed._

Quickly, Harry staggered out of the classroom, joining Hermione once again.

"What happened in there?" asked Hermione, mystified, but at the same time nervously eyeing her watch; her lesson was about to begin in two minutes.

"I…I nearly told him about the dream," purred Harry, speeding his leg's motion, "but I was reluctant…I changed my mind."

"Well, to be honest, that was wrong of you," said Hermione scathingly, "you should've told him; Harry, you need to realize that you're in grave danger, and you need all possible help you can get."

"Yeah, but what if he doesn't tell me anything? Like last time?"

"That was different, Harry," pointed out Hermione, nearly tripping over a trick step on one of the staircases leading to Arithmancy class, and trying to mollify Harry.

"Not much," objected Harry sharply, "it's the same vision."

"I know, but you said you didn't see yourself die like a wriggling worm on the floor," muttered Hermione, greeting a friend of hers from her Arithmancy class.

"Either way, Firenze will always leave me hanging on a cliff. He fears to tell me the truth," gossiped Harry hotly.

"Harry, perhaps you're the one who's afraid to confess the truth," said Hermione heatedly. "Now, you'd better be going before you get late."

"Why should I care? I'm a teacher, and no one has the right to dock some points away from my house," he giggled sarcastically.

"You'll be taking away the students' time," she mentioned.

He felt himself rather like Ron now, for his temper certainly rose, and he was already involved in a practically incessant argument with his passionate girlfriend. Yet, he thought of his actions being wise, not babbling to

"Hey," spoke Harry, after some silence, "he told me something impressive, though. He told me Ron was actually superb in arrow shooting."

"Well," she began softly, "I guess our friend Ronald Hood is very stunning in terms of Divination."

At those words, he couldn't help himself laughing.

She slammed the door shut behind her, leaving Harry on the stone steps.

A good while later that noon, Harry was having small-talk with Ron in their Transfiguration classroom.

"What are you eating?" queried Harry, as he saw Ron's cheeks move up, down, and in circles rapidly.

"Chocolate Frogs," responded Ron, some chocolate drooling down his lips, "I need to replenish my stock of them, though. Next Hogsmeade trip will be the fine timing."

"Better swallow it before McGonagall sees you chewing it," advised Harry, nudging Ron in the left shoulder. Thus, Ron hastily used his canine teeth to chop down the chocolate into tiny miniscule bits, and rushed it down his warm throat.

"Mr. Weasley," came the stern sharp voice of Professor McGonagall. Ron was frozen in his place as if he was just electrocuted. Could she have possibly caught a glimpse of chocolate rush down his robes? Or did she notice some smudges of chocolate on his wet lips?

"Yes?" he replied reluctantly.

"I would like to see you kindly bring this guinea pig back to its first form before Transfiguration," she demanded, taking the little animal out of its cage.

"Um…sure," mumbled Ron hesitatingly, taking out his wand, biting his lips nervously, and glancing at Harry, who was merely relieved.

"_Preacockster!_" tittered Ron, uncertainly, as he saw the little brown and white guinea pig undergo a magical physical transformation. He half-succeeded, though. Once he muttered the incantation, waving his wand directly at the cute creature, it did start growing back into its original state, which happened to be a brilliant looking colourful male peacock. Nevertheless, there were several lapses that Ron didn't realize. First of all, the peacock had a tail other than its own colourful one. Second, two large round nostrils with bits of matted black hair dangling down were visible. And third, thick brown fur, not blue, green, yellow, rainbow coloured light feathers, covered the creature's head.

Laughter emerged from what seemed like every table in the whole classroom, and especially from the Slytherins, where Malfoy leaded the jeering. Poor Ron was embarrassed by his abysmal performance, regretting every second of chewing on Chocolate Frogs. If only he had a Time Turner like Hermione once had their third year, he would've been most successful in this part of Transfiguration. No matter, it was in the nature of Ronald Weasley to be sometimes ignorant.

"Why, thank you for your amusing show, Mr. Weasley," snarled the old woman, waving her wand, and properly vanishing the abnormal additions to the peacock, "perhaps you ought to pay more undivided attention. This is going to cover over thirty percent of your pre-N.E.W.T test, and possibly even more of your end-of-the-year exam."

If Harry was not totally mistaken, he would've seen such effort in Ron to retch. Embarrassed as he was, Ron returned to his seat, trying to shut Harry's giggling up. Hermione, on the other hand, was whispering the correct way to Transfigure the guinea pig back into a peacock. He merely listened to her hissing.

"Oh, give it a rest, Hermione," mumbled Ron indignantly, setting his head on his forearms, looking directly at Professor McGonagall.

Later in the afternoon, everyone was dismissed from their last lesson of the day, scurrying like fretted rats back to their abandoned dormitories. Harry, Ron, and Hermione decided to complete their dreadful Potions essay, which was a comparison between the essential spells used to properly brew two different potions, The Gloomy Bubble Potion, and the Red-Eyed Cabbage Potion. Previously, and to nobody's surprise, Professor Snape had delightfully explained how all of this was vital revision for pre-N.E.W.T examination. It was really getting trite, though.

The three thought of a change of studying ways. Hermione suggested drawing a vivid Venn Diagram at first, just as a brainstorming. Harry and Ron agreed, desperate for any way to end what looked like a nightmare of an essay. When finally they were done scratching their quills, which had several feathers fallen off of, against the rolls of parchment, they read it three times in succession to make sure they didn't miss a necessary point to be looked for by Snape. Shortly after that, and to Harry and Ron's annoyance, Hermione urged them to write down on another roll of parchment, for Snape had wanted an essay form, not a Venn Diagram. They were no doubt reluctant about it, but afraid of Hermione's unbearable scolding, they fired away. Ron was absolutely depressed because of the fact that the load of homework he had behind his back was more like a mountain of parchment. Harry, on the other hand, despite the fact that he hesitated in writing, had obviously thought it was for his own benefit; five lesson planners were awaiting him on his desk in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Eventually, their practically ever-lasting Potions homework was nicely completed and polished. Unfortunately, though, the three couldn't feel a single sensation in their exhausted fingers; inevitably, writing continuously for a length of six rolls of parchment was enough to torture the nerves of anyone's fingers, therefore making them numb.

"Honestly," affirmed Ron, as he rested his sore wrist, "that twit is really getting on our nerves with those bloody, demanding, terrible pre-N.E.W.T tests."

Harry nodded sympathetically, slowly taking out his yet unfinished History of Magic homework; it was in done in two days of time, and the time was passing by as though Judgment Day wad drawing nearer.

"Well, you can't blame him, can you Ron?" commented Hermione, steeping her quill in some cold black ink. "I mean, those are the school rules, and we have virtually no power against them. Pre-N.E.W.Ts are mandatory in order to see how well you're prepared for the real N.E.W.Ts in seventh year."

"Tell me about it," sneered Ron sarcastically. "Anyway, you may be right, Hermione, but I think that rotten dingbat shall fail us purposefully, deliberately if he doesn't stop lecturing us about the ruddy tests."

"He wouldn't do such foolish thing, Ron," declined Hermione scathingly, grinning. "Few of us may fail. After all, just think of them as normal exams."

"'Just think of them as normal exams' she says," Ron imitated Hermione, "speak for yourself."

"Besides, he's a member of the…"

"Order," interrupted Harry. "Yeah, we know."

Moments of undisturbed silence passed by, while Hermione fleetingly glared at the pair of them.

"Hey Ron," came a sudden soft voice, Ginny Weasley's.

"What?" he questioned, a bit exasperated.

"How does a Crabbhopper capture its prey?" apparently, she was stuck on a homework question that Hagrid requested answering. And, as Harry thought, it might've been too early to introduce Ginny and her fifth year friends to Crabbhoppers.

"Dunno," he replied rudely, "ask the genius."

His finger pointed at Hermione, who was just about to begin reading a long chapter for Ancient Runes. Her eyes stopped momentarily, and caught fire. She was frowning at him. Ron noticed how lethal her looks could sometimes be.

"It uses the razor sharp spikes on its leathery legs to suffocate the prey starting from the throat. Then, some violet liquid is secreted to moisten the rigid skin of the victim," responded Hermione amicably.

"Thanks," muttered Ginny, scribbling down untidy letters of what she had just heard, beaming.

"By the way, Ginny," added Hermione, grinning at her, "we mentioned this in the discussion of last fifth years' Study Society meeting."

"Don't blame her," interrupted Ron, "she's as thick as her brother."

Hermione nearly raised her palm to slap him, had not Harry grabbed her from the wrist in the perfect timing.

"At least she'd be polite in asking a favour," communicated Hermione indignantly, "she's not as rude as you, Ronald. All you think about is fancy food from the kitchens, and deserving a special award for heroism!"

Utterly, Ginny was stunned by the way Hermione snapped at her brother.

"You know what," wept Hermione," I'd better be reporting this to your mother…telling her how you treat your only sister…"

In a flick of seconds, Ron jumped up from the armchair, and seized her from the elbow.

"No," he whimpered uneasily, "anything but that!"

"Well then, apologize," mouthed Hermione in a demanding vehement aspect of speaking.

"Fine," said Ron, as Harry used his chance for a laugh, "I'm sorry Ginny. I didn't mean that you were dumb."

Shocked as she was, Ginny was bewildered. Still, she grinned at her humiliated brother, nodding, accepting his apology.

"That's better now, isn't it?" joked Hermione, intending to move away. Ron's hands were still clinging to her elbow, as if permanent glue was set on the gap between the two parts.

"Ron, you could leg go of her," giggled Harry, "her elbow's not entirely broken, you know."

"Oh…sorry," he apologized yet again, pulling away his hand.

Against Hermione's words, Ron looked unbelievably pathetic. He would've sworn by now that almost every first, second, third, and fourth year currently sitting in the common room would roll with hysterical laughter.

"Well, she's got a point Ron," agreed Harry, jotting down some points for his homework, "you shouldn't be treating your sister like that."

"Siding with her, are you now?"

"I'm not siding with anyone," assured Harry, taking off his glasses, rubbing his tired eyelids and then putting his glasses back on again, "I am just saying that you'd better grow up and change your manners."

"Oh shut up," said Ron, holding out a fistful of Bertie Botts Every-Flavour Beans, "you sound just like Mum."

The Study Society meeting went rather fine for the rest of today's fifth years. Hermione had utilized her incredible knowledge and memory from last year to help uncover the legend of Sir Wilberg the Seventh, who played a major role in the magical history. As Hermione had thoroughly explained, he had used his mind and courageous heart to defeat the ancient Siberian Eagles. Those were extremely eerie and vicious creatures, made from frigid ice and freezing snow. A funny thought occurred to Harry when he overheard the discussion. He thought that even Hagrid, who was commonly known for admiring all sorts of magical creatures, wouldn't fancy approaching a raging Siberian Eagle. After the introduction, Hermione mentioned the method those beasts use to kill people. Accordingly to her, the Siberian Eagles had long attacked humans unobtrusively, using their sharp glazed talons. Once the talons were pierced into the flesh, the whole body becomes frail, and gradually paralyzed and shut down. Shortly after that process, the Siberian Eagle would push their motionless victim into their frosty bodies, providing a great source of fueling energy. To do so, some ice is scraped off by their talons and sometimes long beaks, and then slowly, a hole becomes increasingly wider in size, till its size is big enough to insert the dead prey. Only then, as if with starfish, the ice body regenerates, forming a new layer of even stronger surface ice. Until about six hundred years or so from their first appearance in Siberia, Sir Wilberg the Seventh made controversial history. He found a perfect way to slay the hazardous birds, by means of setting flames on them. Although naturally ice melts due to the constant heat of fire, the Siberian Eagles' remarkably strong bodies resisted the heat of stinging flames. Therefore, Sir Wilberg, who was young at that time and had just finished Auror training by the hands of three noble men, Artomio Liliquar, Frederick Flingermile, and Theodore Pebblemania, was to think of something else to save the witches, wizards, and even Muggles who were doomed by their fait. Years of despair full of massacres, catastrophes, and vicious killing passed by, until at last, the aging wizard discovered the effective Cruciatus Curse. Along with two other curses of his discovery, Imperius, and Avada Kedavra, Sir Wilberg named these the Unforgivable Curses, which by now, almost every adult magical person knows about. They were designed by Sir Wilberg to display the most intricate, difficult, but extremely powerful brands of magic. It was he who banned their usage unless desperate for. Thanks to Sir Wilberg the Seventh, the Siberian Eagles have become extinct within three years of time, and since then, there was no sight of them at all on earth. Ever since all of them were slain, he instantly became the mid-ages' most unforgettable legend. Sir Wilberg's contribution to the wizard race, or to be more truthful, the human race, remained unique for many countless ages. _s _HIst

"Wow!" muttered Ginny, looking awestruck. "That's a really fascinating tale!"

"I know," said Hermione, grinning, "we've spent almost three lessons with Professor Binns last year reading the chapter over and over again, trying to analyze his decisions. Some people used to say that those three men who helped him in Auror training built a statue of him, so large that you'll have to throw back your neck in order to see the top of it. It is said that the stature represented him raising his wand at a Siberian Eagle. In the end, they stuck it to the snowy grounds of Siberia."

"When did this happen anyway?" asked a fifth year that Harry never knew; his name was Marcus Fimble.

"A great time ago," said Hermione in response, "it may have happened approximately in the year 299 B.C."

"Whoa!" whispered Ginny in amazement.

"Thanks a lot Hermione," spoke a grateful fifth year Gryffindor, Andy Jonathon, "Binns will surely be pleased with this homework…it should raise up my marks a bit…I hope I get at least 'Acceptable' in my O.W.Ls this year."

"You're most welcome," beamed Hermione, handing over her recorded notes to little Dennis Creevey, who packed everything in one huge pile, placing it in an oversized folder for end of the year revision.

"That was some fairy tale you spoke," giggled Ron, as Hermione made her way back to the armchair beside the fire, joining him and Harry.

"It's not a fairy tale, Ron. It really happened. Don't you remember Binns gossiping unceasingly about it, or did you perhaps drift away as the flames from his fireplace reached your eyes?" said Hermione scathingly, taking out some wool to knit for the house-elves.

"She's starting to believe in non-existing things," hissed Ron softly to Harry, "more like Luna Lovegood."

Although part of Harry knew that the legend was based on true hero, the other half couldn't help depress Ron. He grinned at him. Anyways, as the first half of him reminded, he believed every single word Hermione had previously spoken. It wasn't at all a myth, but a true story. Ironically, people couldn't just believe how Sir Wilberg banished those Eagles from life. In addition to that, as Harry's mind recalled another boring History of Magic class from last year, Sir Wilberg had also went on most dangerous voyages around the world, searching for evil to extinguish.

About an hour and half after the meeting was concluded, and Hermione knitted seventy one hats, the students began packing up their schoolbags, stuffing their books and quills right back to where they belonged. Dinner time was yet to arrive.

"I hope there's a juicy Chicken Fillet waiting for me on the table," said Ron hopefully; Harry noticed some stick saliva dribbling down his wet lips. Harry and Hermione weren't exactly concerned with that particular thought, and joined the throng out of the common room.

As they moved through the corridors, descending to lower levels, they saw many teachers walking at top speed downstairs, using all the shortcuts that could cross their minds. There was also a noticeable murmur going on between the staff, and Harry wondered, as a teacher, why none of them dragged him into the conversation. Twice he's seen Madam Hooch, who had taught him the basics of flying in his first year, bite her lips nervously. Snape greasy hair flew backwards as his legs moved further quicker, and tiny Professor Flitwick was walking much like a penguin, reaching the marble staircase. Ron couldn't help it; he was half amused, and half intrigued.

When they finally entered the Great Hall, it was as if they had just walked into a humungous dimly lit cavern. Their eyes were naturally unadjusted to the sudden darkness. Usually, the Great Hall was perfectly illuminated with candle lights and torches hung high up on holders. However, this time, the candle light was gone. There was only dim light of torches, and Harry could barely see his way through the aisle. To everybody's interest, there was a conspicuous light blue hue hovering in the middle of the spacious dwelling, shimmering like shooting stars, attracting the majority of students.

"What's the matter? What's going on?" questioned Neville anxiously.

"Ouch! Lavender, that was my foot!" winced Parvati Patil, as Lavender Brown accidentally trotted over her left foot.

"Sorry," she apologized calmly, "I couldn't see in the dark, you know."

"Why are there no lights? Aren't we having dinner or something?" asked a worried Ron.

"Ron, just calm down. There must be reasons behind this alter of matters," suggested Hermione matter-of-factly, squinting at the staff table, hopeful to catch a glimpse of an old man.

Then, Harry began to notice some shadowy figures moving slowly across the staff table. Would it be the house ghosts? No...they would stand out perfectly due to the white colour. Only then did Harry realize that those figures were teachers.

"Relax everyone," came a sudden deep voice, Professor Dumbledore's, "there is absolutely no need to fret while you remain safe in here."

Helplessly, the pupils were focusing their eyes at the murky staff table. Supposedly, that's were the Headmaster's voice came from.

"Now," he continued, "there have been several changes in the environment of the long known Great Hall. Then again, you might wonder why. The staff and I had agreed to welcome a few guests that come from Ireland. They will be patrolling the castle night and day, till the end of term, providing all the protection they are able to come up with. Of course, you might also ask about the purpose of such actions. Well…I see…now that Lord Voldemort (there was a usual wince at the sound of the name) is currently running loose, perhaps recruiting every creature in his army, the Ministry of Magic, here and there, felt like doing something sensible. And so, we have reached a reasonable agreement of playing host to those people who will arrive shortly."

"I just hope those guest aren't bloody Dementors," said Ron, looking slightly appalled, "remember how it was in third year?"

But Harry had completely ignored him, listening to the rest of Dumbledore's speech.

"Yes," the Headmaster went on, still not visible among the vast blackness, "they will arrive tonight. They will mean you no harm if you stay out of their way. This is a word of alarm…do not ever bother to interfere in their business here whenever you bypass one, two, or maybe all of them…they can be easily offended, and alas, their retribution would be immensely harsh and mighty."

Malfoy, as Harry thought he saw it clearly, had and expression of fear on his face; he was holding on to Crabbe and Goyle, who were both shaking recklessly in their spots.

"It is not at all wise to provoke one of those men," said Dumbledore, "their mission here, as I have briefly explained, is to provide safety from the servants of Lord Voldemort."

There were horrid gasps emerging at the sound of the name. None the less, Harry and his friends were accustomed to it by now, and so were Dumbledore and this staff.

"Many of you have perhaps heard that the Death Eaters who were locked up in Azkaban last June, have managed somehow to escape yet again," informed Dumbledore, now his face merely showing when some of the blue hue hovered around it, "now those cruel murderers are obviously heading our way. Still, some of you may have thought…why haven't they turned up much earlier? Did Voldemort perhaps order them not to? Did they do as their master commanded? Well…I suppose Lord Voldemort has reasons behind his doings as do I…" he cut off short, without another word.

"I bet Malfoy will be relieved to see his father," joked Harry in the pitch night darkness.

"Our own loyal sources have recently detected movements of Death Eaters," spoke the Headmaster confidently, referring indirectly to the Order of the Phoenix and Ministry of Magic, "and weren't able to stop them. However, now that they are too close from being at Hogwarts, we seriously pondered many suggestions. It was at last that we agreed to accept help from outsiders. And thus, the Noble Rangers of the South are yet to arrive."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged awestruck looks.

"In case you're wondering why this normalcy has been altered," declared the old man, "we find it suitable for the Rangers. After all, they are used to their habit of living underground. Therefore, dim light should be supportive enough for them. For now, follow the blue light you see before your eyes; it will only direct you to your house table."

Obediently, the throng of students started convoying around the place. As an aid, Professor Dumbledore shot four different lights from the tip of his wand into thin air, each having a unique colour. The green one led Slytherins to their house table, while the red one directed the Gryffindors to where they belonged. Meanwhile, the blue light was followed by the crowd of murmuring Ravenclaws. Simultaneously, the Hufflepuffs were lagging behind the hovering yellow light.

As they sat down, Harry, Ron, and Hermione noticed some dim white light surrounding the edges of plates, bowls, and jugs. Ron was so desperate for some more light, noticing that the Rangers haven't arrived yet. Thus, he couldn't help but light his own wand, revealing some brilliant helpful light. There was no need for Harry and Hermione to light their wands, for Ron's was enough.

While Harry was chewing on some lamb chops, he sensed something much like a yellow light near him. Then, he remembered that Anystal shown yellow whenever danger was near. Instantly, he dropped down his fork, and hastily stuck his hand into his robes. Out came Anystal, but dull of colour.

"Harry, put it away before anyone sees it!" whispered Hermione commandingly.

"Is something…wrong?" asked Ron, pausing fleetingly to take a sip out of his dandelion juice.

"No," replied Harry solemnly, after making sure there was no warning, "I just thought it was gleaming yellow."

"Well, it can't be," commented Hermione, pulling Ron's lit wand closer to her so that she could see the piece of bread that had fallen off her plate, "there's nothing alarming approaching us, Harry. On the contrary, safety is coming."

Harry merely grinned at her white illuminated face.

"I wonder what those Rangers are really like," muttered Harry.

"We shall see," hissed Hermione softly.

The moonlight penetrated the high windows of the Great Hall. Then, the whole crowd sensed something rather peculiar and queer happening. The windows nearly shattered due to immense shaking and vibrations. The torches' fire was put out, and the blue hue in the air had vanished. No light other than the moonlight was present.

"What's going on?" enquired a petrified Dean Thomas, gripping his chicken leg so tightly that he heard a crack in it.

The vibrations continued without a halt, and every student in the Great Hall was frequently sliding against his neighbour.

"Ow! Harry, watch it!" grimaced Hermione, as Harry's elbow accidentally bumped into her rib cage.

The goblets were shaking almost vigorously, and the tables were repeatedly moving back and forth in an incessant pattern. This had surely heightened everybody's anxiety.

"Don't worry," Professor Dumbledore's voice was sounded again, "this is only temporary. The Rangers will be arriving any minute now. For the mean time, I suggest holding on to whoever is beside you."

Immediately, fearful of getting any more maladies, Hermione hooked her right arm into Harry's and her left into Ron's. Then, Ron tied his left arm around Ginny's shoulder, and she supported Lavender and Parvati. On the other side of Harry, he was holding firmly onto Seamus's wrist, who had his right arm hooked in Dean's; Neville's left arm was tightly wrapped around Dean's neck, almost choking him. Several fourth years and below were holding on to each other on Neville's right side.

"Did you hear that?" whispered Ginny, heavily breathing.

"Hear what?" asked Ron, noticing that the vibrations ceased.

"Ssh, listen," she ordered.

A very deep sound was indeed heard from above. Suddenly, without any alarm, Harry noticed the ceiling cracking open. There was a hole there that started moving across the two sides from the origin, fracturing the bewitched ceiling that looked like a night sky in half. Amazingly, no bricks or concrete had fallen on the students' heads, and Harry knew that Dumbledore must've done something to prevent it from happening.

In came an incredible, exotic sight. As the moonlight spread further along the Great Hall, the students witnessed a herd of humungous creatures flying downwards, one after the other; there were seven in total. Everybody had awestruck expressions on their stunned faces. The spacious creatures were no doubt magical, but looked more like whales. They had wings, and tentacles of a squid. On each creatures' curved back, were three men, hidden underneath heavy green leather robes, which were shimmering beneath the ghost light of the moon. Their heads were hooded with furry silver hoods, and they had waist length yellow hair.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione and all the others gazed, stunned at the queer sight. They bent backwards to observe the large bodies of whale-like beasts, their heads almost touching the hard ground. There was even an immense shower of soft snowflakes released from the creatures' side fins.

"Merlin's beard! What the bloody hell are those?" question Ron, his eyes gradually widening like the horizon.

The whale-like creatures and the men on top of each beast descended to lower levels, careful not to crash into any students' heads. The snowflakes remained falling down in trickles, but they magically disappeared as soon as they approached the pupils' hairs. Down slid the men with yellow hair, not a single grin on their vague faces. They marched to the front of the Great Hall, more like gliding towards the staff table.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the old Headmaster, "I give you the Noble Rangers of the South."

Automatically, as though no one had an idea what else to do, they all applauded intensely, until the palms of their hands felt like white-hot.

After the clapping eventually subsided, some brilliant lights came back to the Great Hall, bringing along some relief to the students, and especially Neville. Yet, they were still characterized as dim.

"Here stand twenty-one courageous Rangers that have consented to join our side in battling against Lord Voldemort and his supporters," explained Dumbledore, now his face was clearly lit by the lights, "and in head of these spectacular men is Chief Altazark."

The man that happened to be standing in front of the twenty other men turned around slowly, glancing at the crowd. It was conspicuous that he was an aged man, perhaps eighty or a bit less. He had wrinkled eyes, a crooked nose, a long blonde-yellow beard, and some white hair on his temples.

"I am Altazark Idolisis, chief of the men that stand before me," he introduced himself politely, "we've been called for help by your Headmaster, and thus we answered his call. Although caution can sometimes be vital, it is also essential to learn how to co-operate with friends from outside your lands. Only then can we all win this war. We all stand here for one purpose…and our purpose is to vanquish the Dark Lord."

Ron got the shivers, even though Voldemort's name wasn't spoken. Harry and Hermione were still looking at the aged man, keen to know more about him and the nature of his men. They realized from his words the wisdom that Dumbledore had accomplished throughout his years.

"You might be uneasy to see us in this form, therefore I owe you all an explanation," continued Chief Altazark, his eyes narrowing, "my men and I are part human. We are descendents of Sir Wilberg the Seventh."

Ginny raised her eyebrows and her jaw fell; she looked directly at Hermione, who had previously discussed his legend this evening.

"He was part of what we call the ancient wizard race," added the yellow-haired man.

"You would also possibly wonder why the Rangers arrived here using these fascinating creatures," pointed out Professor Dumbledore, pointing his fingers at the seven whale-like creatures that were hovering above.

The students' attention was drawn back to the titanic beasts. Paradoxically, they were hovering like autumn tree leaves, regardless of their weight.

"Orchentaci have always been our traditional transport vehicles," said Chief Altazark, gazing at them, "long have they been most helpful and reliable underground. It was time to experiment their abilities above it."

"Hagrid is surely astounded by now," joked Harry under his breath. Ron and Hermione scarcely giggled.

"Now," continued the old Headmaster, "these Rangers shall be staying as residents in Hogwarts, in a unique place that rarely anyone of us could find. The Orchentaci, however, shall be traveling to the lake, for they, as Chief Altazark has informed me, are somehow related to the giant squid."

As if they were in a Muggle military army, the Rangers stood upright in their places, motionless, waiting for their boss's directions.

"Resume feasting everyone," instructed Dumbledore calmly, "meanwhile, I shall escort our new guest to their room."

They glided, accompanied by the Headmaster, along the aisle between the Gryffindor and Slytherin house tables. Harry could see a blur of Malfoy smirking at the weird Rangers, for they seldom moved their eyes to either side. Dumbledore led them out of the doors to the Great Hall, and soon they were invisible form eyesight.

"Look," whispered Hermione, raising her finger at the Orchentaci.

At a slow rate, they began to leave, flapping their wings and fins, several more snowflakes falling downwards. Their tentacles were dangling down from their bellies, and momentarily, they started spinning. A strong breeze of cool air floated by as the incredibly big creatures flapped their gigantic tails. One after the other in succession, the Orchentaci flew out of the ripped ceiling, heading to the lake. Magically, the opening caused by the beasts was sealed again, leaving not one single miniscule crack visible to the naked eye. No more moonlight from above penetrated into the ceiling, but instead, there was the bewitched night sky again, crammed with stars, and even some small moons moving gradually in circles.

"That was…cool!" roared Seamus.

"Did you see those jelly-like tentacles? Not even the giant squid could've done that odd move with them!" chattered Dean enthusiastically.

"I don't think I'll like the Rangers," purred Ron earnestly, as he went back to his precious second Chicken Fillet sandwich, "they don't seem to know the meaning of a smile."

"Maybe they are too strict," suggested Harry, slowly tearing the grilled steak into pieces.

"Whoever they are," mumbled Hermione vaguely, "they're here for our protection and safety, and that's what really matters. Dumbledore said not to offend them by any means, so we'd better keep a good distance away from them."

Harry and Ron nodded.

"I'm telling you," spoke a confident Neville, "ever since Dumbledore has got hold of the Ministry of Magic, great changes came."

"He's an amazingly mad wizard, that's who he is," added Dean humorously.

Under the current circumstances, no one was threatened, instead, relieved. Still, that didn't end Harry, Ron, and Hermione's constant worries about the near future. They've got their semi-final Quidditch matches in six days. In addition to that, the major apprehension came back to the subject of the Wolf of the Eight Floor. There was no sign of it yet, but the three were assured that it was going to wake up, and fulfill its master's desires as the sixth month is born. Harry truly wished that the shadow had told him some more about the Wolf. However, the only useful bit of information that Harry could use was that he had the sword of Anystal in his possession. Accordingly to Hermione, Anystal was a legendary blade. It was used in many battles, and had loads and loads of functions.

No more thoughts strolled across Harry's preoccupied mind, now. A grin was evident on his face, and he went back physically to his full plate and pomegranate juice.


	38. Meeting the Chief

38 (Meeting the Chief)

In the middle of the gloomy night, Harry woke up on his four poster bed. Careful not to make any annoying noise, he quietly took out the brilliant Marauder's Map. The reason behind this was his unbearable curiosity. Harry was so eager to know where the Rangers, who had just arrived this evening, stayed. Perhaps he'd want to meet them one day, and get to know them personally. Friendly conversations could go on between them, and he might just be lucky enough to spy on their plans, although he knew how mischievous it would be. Nevertheless, as Snape had said, like father, like son. After all Harry had seen this very night, he predicted that the Rangers might be so secretive. It was so clear in their actions that they did nothing unless instructed by their master, Chief Altazark.

"_Lumos!_" muttered Harry quietly. At once, a beam of white light emerged from the tip of his wand, spreading the light across his bed, and revealing the map clearly in his palm.

"_I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," _he whispered and the usual welcome note from the four Marauders appeared.

As he had seen a lot of times before, Harry noticed what seemed to be like millions, billions of tiny little dots, footsteps, and figures. Each dot had a name above it, indicating a particular person. It, of course, showed where they were, and if they were moving, in what direction. As Harry moved his eyes to the trophy room, Peeves was messing around, probably planting some dungbombs. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was currently petting his dear cat, Mrs. Norris, in his old office. But none of that satisfied Harry's curiosity, because he was actually searching for the location of the Noble Rangers of the South.

Gradually, Harry's eyes moved across the intricate map, passing by every single dot at a sea turtle's rate. The light beam from his lit wand displayed more regions that he hasn't been able to see in the darkness. His eyes bypassed the corridors on the third floor, indicating several statues. He instantly ceased, having a flashback of his first year. It so happens that he, Ron, and Hermione had ventured into the corridor on the right hand of the third floor. Eventually, they had managed to uncover the secret, discovering a pet of Hagrid's, Fluffy.

Desperately and wearily, his pupils narrowed, focusing even more closely. Harry thought he saw the capital letters 'N' and 'R' somewhere on top of the map, possibly resembling the seventh floor. Most unfortunately, his eyes were out of focus momentarily, and then he tried his best to regain concentration. At last, he saw a label 'The Noble Rangers of the South' scarcely moving around in one tight spot. What astounded Harry more than that was the label just above it, 'The Room of Requirement'. Professor Dumbledore had led them to that interesting and incredibly bizarre place. Accordingly to his previous knowledge, Harry remembered that the Room of Requirement was a remarkable place in the castle. It seldom revealed itself to people who had just passed by. In fact, the one seeking to enter it should have a certain purpose, a particular desire. Only then can a door open at once, showing the way into the threshold. Harry had great use of it last year. All of the DA members, including himself, held their meetings in that very room. That was where he and his fellows carried out different spells, hexes, charms, or jinxes. And as an aid, as Harry remembered Hermione's enthusiasm the first time they entered it, the room was full of Defence books.

Then, Harry's mind came back to the present. Why did Dumbledore select that room in particular? The Rangers could've dug vast holes in the ground, like badgers, and descended to lower levels underground. After all, it was the best habitat for them, wasn't it? Yet, Harry thought of that idea as preposterous and absurd. Furthermore, the Headmaster had done numerous things that couldn't be easily explained, and still, he had his reasons. But as Harry recalled Dumbledore's speech this evening, the old man wanted not disturbance whatsoever to the Rangers. Possibly, he attempts to keep the students away from them as hard as he can.

Reluctantly, Harry tapped the Marauder's Map softly with this wand, muttering '_Mischief Managed!_'.

"_Nox!_" he hissed, and immediately, the light from his wand slowly waned, then at last vanishing. It was also lucky for him that he did such thing, because Ron on the other side of his bed was mumbling vaguely. He clearly was dreaming, or more likely having nightmares about vicious eerie spiders. At one point, he practically slid out of his bed and jumped on Harry, intending to slay him, holding an imaginary sword in his grip. Perhaps the light disturbed his mind. Fortunately, when Harry unlit his wand, Ron went back to normalcy, and fell to his bed on his back, instantly resuming snoring.

Harry laid his head on his fluffy pillow, after he set the map in a near drawer. Hedwig, his white wintry pet owl, who was sometimes bored of sleeping in the school Owlery, had her head masked under her feathery wings. She was sleeping soundly, seldom hooting. Harry smiled at her. At least, she didn't have a busy mind as he had. Seeing her comfortable made him somehow happy. Still, animals' minds differ from those of humans. Therefore, he wasn't entirely sure.

It's been nearly five wearisome, tiring days since the Noble Rangers of the South had come to Hogwarts. No one has ever run into the yet. But once, poor Colin Creevey, who happened to be overly friendly, thought of greeting a member of the group. He was so shocked by the way one Ranger ignored him. It was so noticeable that they rarely spoke, and dubious that they'd welcome you with open arms. Unluckily to Colin, Professor McGonagall, who happened to be his Head of House, saw that very incident, and then more or less gave him a scolding, reminding him of Dumbledore's wise caution words. She apologized to the Ranger, who in turn merely nodded his head. He had his five fingers run through his soft sleek yellow beard, and then eventually glided away. Colin suspected if the Rangers had normal feet like humans. Nevertheless, that remained yet to be mystical, for the long green leather cloak was sweeping the floor behind it, leaving no space whatsoever to catch a glimpse of feet…or something else.

"Ron, Hermione," whispered Harry at breakfast, "I've been kind of keeping a secret from you."

They grinned at him.

"What's new Harry?" asked Ron intriguingly. "I mean…other than Crookshanks flirting with Mrs. Norris."

If that didn't make Hermione laugh, it only made her more enraged.

"Ron! Stop this rubbish!" she mouthed furiously, feeling somehow insulted and offended.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, still giggling from the inside.

"So, what's that you've got to tell us? I hope it's important to know," said Hermione, tucking her shirt in.

"Well…the night those Rangers came," reported Harry, "I really felt like I should know their whereabouts in the castle."

"Harry, Dumbledore told us to…"

"Keep away from them; yeah, I know, Hermione," interrupted Harry abruptly, "but anyway, the curiosity was killing me."

"Tell us, what did you do?" queried Ron, pushing the _Daily Prophet_ aside.

"With the aid of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," joked Harry, referring to his father, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew, "I finally discovered where Dumbledore took them to."

"And?" enquired Ron impatiently, as if awaiting a Christmas present.

"I couldn't believe it myself at first, but then it made perfect sense," philosophized Harry, destroying Ron's impatience, "he'd led them to the Room of Requirement."

Ron clumsily fell from seat when he heard that bit of information.

"Say what?" he whispered in disbelief.

"The Room of Requirement," repeated Harry, "our dear old DA hideout."

"Well, it's suitable for them, isn't it?" pointed out Hermione matter-of-factly, taking off her hair band.

"It might be so," said Harry uncertainly.

"That old man has clearly got some crazy thoughts!" purred Ron enthusiastically, nearly banging his fist against a mug of orange juice.

"They'll find their own environment there," continued Hermione, analyzing the truth, while spreading some jam on her toast.

"I just hope they don't get bitten by any earthworms," commented Ron humorously. "Fact of the matter…I don't really care, as long as they're a good distance away from me."

"I wonder how they sleep?" spoke Harry in a calm mysterious voice, ignoring Ron's opinion.

"Well, they're part human," explained Ron, "so…um…they might just lie down on a dirty muddy floor and shut their eyes."

"Very funny, Ron," talked Hermione sarcastically, turning away to chat with Parvati Patil about the upcoming Quidditch match.

"Those bloody Rangers are surely curious," yawned Ron, looking at Harry, who somehow had the same thought.

"Wait for the flower to blossom, Mr. Weasley," snarled Professor Sprout, as she instructed him for some patience. He and the rest of his mates were testing Zentadol, a brown semi-solid potion, on blooming plants. Apparently, Ron had spilled a few drops of Zentadol earlier than expected; he poured the drops of brown thick muck while the seeds of the plant were still germinating. Consequently, the flower had very dry petals that eventually fell off, instead of a normal result, characterized by the flower doubling its size and releasing a ravishing fume in the air. Later on, Ron lost his house five points due to that lapse. Harry and Hermione merely gave him a mournful look, while Malfoy and his cronies from Slytherin jeered. But surprise of surprises, Professor Sprout took away five points from Slytherin as well.

By the end of the lesson, virtually everyone succeeded in doubling the size of their flowers, and nearly all of them detected a fine splendid essence of peach and strawberry traveling around in the air.

"Tomorrow," began Professor Sprout, as she was summoning all the pots back to a rather large crate, "we shall be testing Zentadol on vicious attacking plants…just as an extension for today's lesson. Mind you concentrate well on the differences…they ought to come on your pre-N.E.W.T examination."

Those last words inevitably filled Ron's heart with despair and loathe. Couldn't anyone possibly stop taking about those what seem like exhausting tests?

As Harry and his fellow Gryffindors pushed their way through the narrow door of Greenhouse one, they heard Malfoy complaining with Professor Sprout about the point loss, which earned him a detention. Unluckily for him, but to Harry, Ron, and Hermione's delight, he had his last detention with Professor McGonagall this evening. Pity, he got himself landed in another dreadful one, only this time it was with the Herbology teacher. Somehow, Harry doubted whether Malfoy should be a prefect by any chance.

"Miserable old grey-haired pumpkin," Harry heard Malfoy muttering to himself, cursing Professor Sprout.

"Whoa! Someone's finally getting on his nerves," mouthed Hermione in delight.

"That should teach him a lesson," quacked Ron.

"No way," objected Harry, giggling, "Malfoy's cruel attitude never changes, does it?"

After several grins, the three of them giggled their way out the Greenhouse, heading to Care of Magical Creatures. They accidentally ran into a member of the Rangers. He shot them a cold, plain, and vague look, and then strode away. After him, four of his friends were beckoned, all lifting their chins up, looking straightforward. A gentle breeze of the January frosty weather blew through their yellow hairs, frequently pulling it up.

"The rotten weasels," groaned Ron, as he turned his head away from them, "can't they even talk? Even though just a little bit?"

"We know," agreed Harry and Hermione, for Ron had said that over and over again ever since their unexpected arrival at Hogwarts.

Moments after the end of their Care of Magical Creatures lesson, which composed of properly handling Sorrowtuckles, Hagrid caught up with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, his hands tied fast behind his huge back.

"What've you got, Hagrid?" interrogated Hermione, setting her book aside on a jagged rock.

"I've got a little fer ya!" he grunted happily, and brought out his hands. To their bewilderment, three oval shaped, mega-sized eggs were seized in his hands. The eggs were so bulky that they could've been the exact measurement of the diameter of Harry's head.

"What are these supposed to be?" questioned Ron, mystified, but intrigued at the same time.

"These, Ron," grunted Hagrid gladly, "are none other than Honey Treat Eggs."

"What exactly do we use them for? Do they have a certain magical purpose?" asked Harry, reluctant at first, but then stroking the shell of one egg with his whole palm.

"Ya don' use 'em," explained Hagrid briefly, "they pop out whenever ya feel ya need somethin' sweet ter taste…latest invention o' Honeydukes, they are. Been there me-self las' night, an' I picked up a bunch o' the beauties."

"How does the honey come out?" Hermione posed another curious question.

"Well, since it's a magical product," whinnied Hagrid, "it don' drool out. Nah, instead, ya'll see the honey circlin' in waves inside o' the eggs, an' then, it forms a crunchy block o' honey ya can take out later on. I jus' thought o' rewarding ya three for yer good excellence in handling them Sorrowtuckles!"

"That's brilliant!" giggled Ron, hauling his heavy egg to the rock next to him.

"Thanks a dozen Hagrid!" laughed Harry, trying to sound polite, as he received his gift.

"Ya go ahead an' have 'em fer dessert," joked Hagrid, waving goodbye, and pushing his cabin's door open.

"See you!" cried Hermione aloud, as she waved a farewell.

"This is just cool," muttered Ron, examining the egg's texture with his itchy fingers.

As they reached the castle, Harry, Ron, and Hermione concealed their eggs under their cloaks. Otherwise, Filch would've spotted them instantly, and misunderstood their actions as smuggling illegal goodies into the school. When they were finally out of his eyesight, Hermione remembered something very urgent.

"Ron…how could you forget? We've got detention with Professor Snape!" she reminded.

"What? Detention? During lunch?" queried Harry. Ron and Hermione nodded their heads.

"Why…that thick old greasy fool!" growled Harry in anger. "This is absolutely unfair! How can he give you detention during lunchtime? You'll be starving!"

"Well, you know how Snape is," muttered Ron in grief, "some things in life never change."

"Harry, could you do us a favour and hide our eggs in your dormitory? They're too massive to carry around the corridors," asked Hermione hopefully.

"Sure," replied Harry tentatively, taking Ron and Hermione's eggs, adding extra weight already.

"Thanks mate," Ron showed some gratitude," see you later."

They both left Harry alone, as they ran at top speed to reach the dungeons.

Despite the fact that Ron and Hermione's eggs added more weight to his own egg, a favour is a favour. Harry wasn't feeling entirely hungry at the moment. Besides, he would've felt a little guilty enjoying some meat platters and grilled steaks without his two best friends.

Shortly after pondering decisions, Harry walked up the staircases to reach Gryffindor Tower, thus proceeding towards the Gryffindor common room. Finally, there stood the portrait of the Fat Lady, chatting with her old friend, Violet.

"Lemonade Fresh!" mouthed Harry, remembering that the previous password has been changed last midnight.

"Enter," chattered the Fat Lady, as he made his way through the Portrait hole.

Hastily, Harry walked into the common room, turning his legs to the left, climbing up the stairs. By now, the bed sheets have been changed into new clean ones, the pillows were fluffed, new wood was hauled to the fireplace, and the curtains were opened to allow some sunlight to penetrate into the windows. Harry truly felt grateful to the house-elves, seeing that Hermione had a point with S.P.E.W. Nevertheless, some of them remained obnoxious, and especially Winky.

One wave from his wand was enough to unlock his trunk. Before his eyes was the phenomenal Invisibility Cloak that her inherited from his disastrously mischievous father, James Potter. On the other side lay the gorgeous, incandescent Firebolt X6. Carefully, Harry stationed the three heavy eggs that were greatly tiring his arms by now beneath the Invisibility Cloak, confirming that they were perfectly masked. For a moment, Harry sensed a sweet fine smell secreted from the eggs, indeed, much like bees' honey. He felt his tongue water now, but his egg didn't crack open by itself. He also knew that he couldn't just slice it open, fearful of betraying Hagrid's trust, and simultaneously ruining the splendid surprise.

Harry lay on his bed for as long as fifteen minutes, empty minded. What would he do for lunchtime, when his best friends were absent because of detention? Harry thought of using this valuable time, for the first time thinking like Hermione often did, to complete his Astronomy assignment. He took out the textbook for reference, his unfinished roll of parchment, his quill, a bottle of ink, and then flipped through the dusty pages till he ended up with the recently studied chapter.

He searched through lines, sentences, whole paragraphs, and diagrams having the need for an appropriate answer. If there was a multiverse, how would the galaxies interact to decide humans' fait? That was the first questioning which made Harry stuck and perplexed. When he wasn't able to find any answer to the somehow absurd question, he lazily scribbled down a few statements of his prediction and imagination.

There seemed to be dozens of questions to respond to, which made Harry give up. In such free time, he wanted to do something fun, not boring. What else could come to his mind? He had already planned on practicing new fancy moves and maneuvers during the Quidditch training this evening. Other than that, what could possibly be entertaining?

In a flash of seconds, he had a great idea rushing to his head. Believed to be instinctive, inherited naughtiness and mischief passed down form his father, Harry made up his mind to visit the Room of Requirement.

Harry didn't want to be seen or caught by anyone; therefore, he put on his precious Cloak, disappearing under it. As a precaution, Anystal was already secured deep down in his robes. Fleeting thoughts of utilizing the Marauder's Map had fled by; however, Harry perfectly knew all the secret passageways and shortcuts, thankful to Fred and George Weasley.

As quiet and as silent as a dead cat, Harry budged out of his deserted dormitory, climbing down the stairs. He saw a figure beside the glowing fire; it was vague. Of course, that made Harry uneasy. He didn't Moody talking to him through the fire, but when he crept closer to the hearth, it was actually Crookshanks, wagging his tail slowly, warming it against the flames. He seemed to be drowsy, for neither purr nor meow was sounded when Harry accidentally banged his shoe against the rough wood of an armchair.

Minutes have run by before he finally scurried out of the common room. Through the corridors he fled, and up the marble staircase he went. Harry was cautious not to bump into Cho Chang, who apparently was heading to Ravenclaw common room to get some hair ribbons for her gossiping girlfriends. Harry's best idea was to avoid having conversation with her.

After over thirty flights of steps, Harry got off the marble staircase, moving along. On his way, Nearly-Headless Nick flew through him, which made Harry a bit disgusted. He was lucky that he was concealed under his Cloak, or else, the Gryffindor ghost might've been suspicious.

At last, a very familiar looking corridor came to his eyesight. Although the door to the Room of Requirement didn't display itself, Harry suddenly heard a squelching noise emerging from the wall. Instantly, one of the Rangers exited, looking on either side of him. Eventually, he glided away, off to his business. Before the door could be slammed shut, Harry rushed to the handle, and stormed into the room through narrow space.

Harry was frantically astonished when he saw what he saw. The room was damp, and had immensely dim light. He felt wet sand, dirt, and muck under his cold feet. The walls and ceiling were all muddy, and there was a smattering of wild mushrooms on the floor, scattered unevenly. They were big enough to step on, as Harry observed. Then, when he turned his head he noticed that the room was bulkier than usual. He even saw a holed dug in the ground. Harry was completely taken by the enormity of the room.

Besides that, what grabbed Harry's attention from underneath the Cloak was the way the Rangers reclined, slept. As he quietly counted them, there were only fifteen of them present; the remaining six must've been on duty or something. Each one of them was tied with green vines, around the torso, wrists, and ankles, making it appear as if their bodies were adjoined to the wall. Also, some mud was oddly circulating around their faces. Possibly, as Harry would've thought, it might've been how they got their faces moistened. What surprised Harry even more to just that was that they had no feet at all. Indeed, Colin Creevey's suspicion happened to be correct. Instead of normal feet with five toes, they had roots, thick, twisted, brown roots. Queer was the right word to describe what the roots were doing; they kept the Rangers hovering inches above the filthy forest-floor.

Though quiet and calm, Harry was utterly fascinated by the Rangers' habitat, or what Muggles would scientifically refer to as an ecosystem. This had created some sort of questioning inside of him. What did Sir Wilberg the Seventh really look like?

Harry was instantly distracted from his thought when he noticed a silver furry hood come out the hole that was dug into the floor. Then came a very determined but pale face, with waist-length blonde-yellow hair and beard. It was Chief Altazark himself, arising out of the hole.

"Who dares force entry into our chambers?" he said grimly.

Speedily, Harry held his hand to his mouth, almost choking himself, careful not to squeak.

"You cannot hide," growled the old man, "I know you're in. Reveal yourself, or else, suffer the consequence."

Fearful of getting hurt, Harry made up his mind to immediate obedience. Gradually, he slid off the Cloak, showing his anxious face.

"Ah," muttered Chief Altazark, as he took a few moments to recognize Harry's visible scar, "I should've known that you were heading our way, Mr. Potter."

Harry was stunned, apparently not aware that his scare was showing.

"How do you now me…sir?" he asked softly, trying to sound polite.

"Do you perhaps not know?" questioned the old man, gliding forward. "You're the Boy Who Lived. Who doesn't know you?"

"Muggles…presumably," suggested Harry earnestly.

The old man had a wicked but satisfied grin on his mouth, much like a mixture of Snape and McGonagall.

"Over and over," he continued, "your headmaster expected this to happen. After all, he had foreseen it before the departure from our lands."

"Foreseen it?" said Harry in a puzzled voice.

"You don't know that either?" muttered Chief Altazark. "My dear, Dumbledore surely is filled with surprises."

"Since when did he foresee stuff?"

"Professor Dumbledore claims that it's a gift," explained the chief, "passed on from his great-great-grandfather."

"Why didn't he tell me before?" asked Harry, perplexed.

"He thought you were still too young in age to receive such information, for even I couldn't have understood it distinctly at your age," acknowledged Chief Altazark.

"So…you mean…everything that had happened over the years…he had seen…seen it…and…and kept quiet?"

"Oh yes, my dear boy," responded the chief, playing with his beard. "You know, I think my friend Dumbledore and the centaurs have something in common."

He joked sarcastically, stepping over some of the mushrooms.

"How do you know all of this?" Harry was seeking more information.

"Haven't you heard that curiosity killed the cat?" giggled the old man ironically, rubbing his crooked nose, "Well, if you insist to know, Potter, we went to school together."

"You….you were friends? But how come? He's a human…a wizard…and you…you said you're part of the ancient…"

"The ancient wizard race, oh yes," he said, "but what you might not yet know, is that your headmaster is a very gifted wizard. He started learning simple magic at the age of six from Sir Wilberg the Twelfth, a descendent of Sir Wilber the Seventh."

"What?" asked Harry, astounded.

"By the time Dumbledore was nine years old," continued the old man, "he mastered the Confundus Charm."

Harry's mouth was wide open in astonishment. His heart was pacing faster than ever before. He was extremely thrilled to hear about such past.

"The golden days, I call them," muttered Chief Altazark, "your headmaster and I were very close pals. Only then, at the age of eleven, he had received an owl from Hogwarts, accepting him to study magic here."

Speechless as he was, Harry desired some more.

"Now, remind me again, young man," spoke the chief, focusing his eyes determinedly at Harry's, "for what point and purpose have you come here?"

"Oh…" he was lost for words, "I was just…I thought of meeting you and the rest of the Rangers…up-close."

"Why so?"

"I don't know," replied Harry uncertainly, "I guess I…fine…well, I wanted to know how you were going to stop Voldemort and his Death Eaters from their business."

To Harry's amazement, there was no wince at all from the Chief. Instead, he had a bold vivid expression on his old face.

"Nosing into other people's business, are we now, Potter?" he scoffed, virtually indignantly.

"Well?"

"Well what?" proclaimed Chief Altazark. "What we attempt to do remains none of your concern."

"But I need to know! I mean…"

"No you do not!" yelled the man, enraged. "You are young in years, and not of age."

"Well I'm as good as! You don't know what I've gone through for the last…"

"Mr. Potter," chattered Chief Altazark, "don't you tell me what I already know of you. You may have ventured into adventures and dangers that no adult wizard sane enough would agree to go into. You've been in battle with Lord Voldemort, not to mention his Death Eaters. Yet, you still aren't prepared for what awaits you out there…in the real world."  
"Fine!" shouted Harry, waking up the sleep Rangers. "What was that all about, then? Huh? What about 'although caution can sometimes be vital, it is also essential to learn how to co-operate from outside your lands'? Don't tell me you've already forgotten that?"

"I know what my tongue speaks, Harry Potter," said the chief, "now, please leave us in peace."

"I shall not leave this place unless you tell me something, and I mean something worthy of informing!" Harry was totally enraged, and reached for his wand, raising it to the old man's chest.

"Now I think you've gone too far!" snapped Chief Altazark. Momentarily, and before Harry even had seconds to realize it, one of the thick roots that were hidden under the green leather cloak shot out in the air, dashing like lightening, and then wrapping itself around Harry's wrist.

"These roots can crush you like an insignificant filthy cockroach, Mr. Potter," mouthed the chief, wickedly grinning. A wave of spasm ran up Harry's arm.

"Leggo!" he winced terribly, his wand slipping out of his fingers.

"Professor Dumbledore may have said some words that you possibly didn't hear, thus I am reminding you of them right now," he bellowed, tightening his grip on Harry's wrist, "he had warned you to stay away from us and certainly not to be intruding."

After another shock of excruciating pain, he finally set him free.

"YOU'RE MENTAL!" shouted Harry as loud as he could, rubbing off the mud on his wrist.

"Do not interfere into what doesn't concern you ever again, Mr. Potter," declared Chief Altazark, his Rangers gathering behind him. "It'll be for your own good."

"Fine, then," responded Harry, almost dead silently.

"Oh and Harry," muttered the old man, "I believe these belong to you."

Held safely between his moving roots were Harry's Invisibility Cloak and wand.

Quickly, and yet rudely, Harry grabbed his possessions, and set off to leave. The Rangers and their chief were still staring vaguely at him.

Totally exasperated, Harry slammed the door shut behind him, putting on his Cloak, and grasping his wand firmly. He was breathing so heavily and gritting his teeth. Why did the Rangers have to treat him that way? Why does every grownup in the school thinks he's still just a child? Why were they secretive in their plans? Also, Harry was wondering why Dumbledore never told him about foresight. Perhaps he also cared about Harry too much that he believed such a smattering of knowledge would hurt his feelings. He was beginning to slowly lose his faith in the Headmaster, for he had incredible things.

"Harry!" came a strong echoing voice. When Harry pulled off the Cloak and turned around, he saw Ron, accompanied by Hermione.

"How did you see me?" he asked, somehow bewildered.

"The muddy foot prints left behind you," explained Ron, pointing at the track.

"Where've you been, anyway? Haven't you had lunch?" questioned Hermione all at once.

"Actually…no," said Harry, uncertain to tell them his tale.

"Then how come you have mud under your shoes?" queried Hermione, grinning.

"What, Hermione?" he began dully. "You think I ate some Muddy-muffins?"

Ron burst into laughter, but Hermione stopped him in no time.

"I really didn't go to lunch, although I regret it now," admitted Harry solemnly.

"Then where were you?" interrogated Ron curiously. "You couldn't have been seriously in the library researching Oil-Headed Tremors for Hagrid, have you?"

"No," giggled Harry, when Ron received a that-could've-been-for-his-own-benefit look from Hermione. "To be truthful, I was in the Room of Requirement."

"WHAT?" yelled Ron loudly; Harry and Hermione had to cover his big fat mouth with both of their hands.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, "but you went on without us? Traitor!"

"I couldn't have just sat on my bed staring at my trunk, could have I?" chattered Harry, folding his Invisibility Cloak, hiding it under his robes.

"Well, to be honest Harry," said Hermione, "Ron's got a point…not about us not coming with you, but I mean…you could've used your time to research Oil-Headed Tremors in the library. I hear they've got a whole series of books pertaining to filthy creatures such as them."

Ron glared at her in disbelief, and Harry's facial expression was rather plain.

"But…well, anyway," she continued on, "what happened in there?"

Along the way to History of Magic, Harry had informed them of all that happened within the Room of Requirement. Hermione, as Harry concluded, was right about the used of the room. Indeed, the Rangers found their own living conditions and habitat in there. Add to that, Ron was right, too. The Rangers scarcely spoke. All in all, that led to them being somehow selfish, arrogant, and rude.

"I'd like to see those roots," muttered Ron excitedly.

"Did Chief Altazark really squeeze you wrist?" asked Hermione anxiously, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes, he nearly fractured it," babbled Harry, saying hi to Zacharias Smith, who had just gone out of the bathroom.

"The rotten dingbat; you should tell Dumbledore about it," suggested Ron, only that enraged Harry gradually.

"Dumbledore?" he asked in a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about way. "Don't you two get me started on him."

"What's the matter with him?" asked Hermione worryingly.

However, Harry ignored her question, and stormed into the History of Magic classroom, occupying an empty seat, closely followed by Ron and Hermione.

"What's gone into Harry?" whispered Ron, looking perplexed at Hermione.

"It's definitely something about Dumbledore," she explained, sitting beside Ron, leaving Harry alone for a while, afraid that he might snap.

"Good afternoon everyone," said Professor Binns coolly, leaving his body beside the usual fireplace.

"Afternoon," everyone replied dully.

Except for Harry. He was so silent and was looking at his textbook. Ron and Hermione were really concerned about his condition. They kept trying to attract his attention by making soft noises in their mouths, or kicking the leg of his table.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," began the ghost grimly, "will you please stop fidgeting in your places and pay attention?"

They were both embarrassed, although Ron was used to it. But Harry didn't look like he noticed it at all. He was in deep thought about the Headmaster now. He felt ice-cold shivers run up his veins. He was sixteen, and that was old enough for him to know what's going on, and to cope with danger. Instantly, he was reminded of the summer before fifth year. The Order had finally consented to give him a general idea about their meetings and business, for he had been stuck four weeks with the Dursleys, indignant about everyone's ignorance. And as Dumbledore put it, he need to know what was just enough for him to know, but no more than that. Harry had a firm grip, and starting rubbing his knuckles against the rough wooden table.

Finally, as the school day ended, Harry zoomed out of the Transfiguration classroom, not a word emerging from his sealed mouth.

"Harry! _Harry!_" mouthed Hermione, her voice high pitched. She was running at turbo speed, with Ron lagging behind her.

Harry happened to be at the top of the stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower, while Ron and Hermione were desperate to catch their breaths, jogging up the flight of steps.

"Harry, what's going on?" asked Hermione truthfully, her knees buckling. Ron was shooting Harry petrified looks, as if he was done for. He didn't experience what Harry was going through.

"I think I just need to be alone for a while," said Harry calmly, as he gazed at his friends.

"That's exactly the opposite of what you need," breathed Hermione. "Harry, we're sorry if we said something…we didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything…that's the last thing we'd do to you."

"Yeah mate," added Ron, "I'm sorry for what I said…I must've made you a bit uneasy. But really, what's with Dumbledore?"

Harry had his troubled eyes wide open behind the glasses. He felt like attacking the Headmaster. Harry would've loved to see his own headmaster vulnerable against him. He wanted to injure him for good. And suddenly, a coincidence. Only last year, he had gone through a similar situation, where he was beginning to notice that Voldemort used him.

"Harry, are you allright?" queried Hermione anxiously, when he suddenly realized that she and Ron were standing a feet away from him.

"I'm…fine," he lied in denial.

"Of course you're not, Harry," objected Ron, "you've been in such a bad mood all afternoon."

"Ron, stop!" hissed Hermione, kicking his foot. He winced fleetingly, but managed to regain some balance.

"You wouldn't want to know what I heard," mumbled Harry in depression, slowly walking backwards. Ron and Hermione moved behind him, patting his shoulders.

By the time they had reached the common room, Harry felt remorseful. They were his best friends, and he felt hesitant to tell them about Dumbledore's past and actions. But of course, it would never cross Harry's mind that either of them would betray him.

Gradually, Harry's mouth opened, and his tongue moved rapidly as he told them the tale. He stopped every now and then for a heavy breath, when a sudden figure of an old calm face sitting in an office in the Ministry of Magic. Hermione amicably helped him continue, and Ron thought that a few Bertie Botts Every-Flavour Beans would sooth him.

Awfully, Harry moaned when he mentioned how the Headmaster had the splendid gift of foresight. Just a blur of Chief Altazark talking about hit in his mind made him sort of retch.

"I don't know why…he's been so selfish…not telling me about it," affirmed Harry, his eyes watering, "he could've stopped everything…everything…but he insisted on destiny implying its definition."

Ron inevitably felt sorrowful for the shock of news to Harry, and sympathetically clapped him softly on the back.

"Hey," murmured Hermione, a tear dangling from her eyelashes, "Harry…I know that sometimes, you begin to hate Dumbledore for things…unexplainable things…but…oh, Harry….what happened had happened….and couldn't have occurred in another way."

"What do you know about it?" whimpered Harry in a slightly shaky voice. "You didn't save the Philosopher's Stone…you didn't kill the basilisk and get rid of Riddle…you didn't risk your neck to finish off over hundred Dementors…you didn't come out of a maze with the dead body of Cedric Diggory…you didn't see him rise again…you…you didn't…"

He difficultly swallowed a heavy lump in his throat, trailing off.

"Harry," whispered Hermione, kneeling down on the carpet, "whatever happens…we'll always be there for you….like you've always been there for us…"

"Right," continued Ron, trying his best to be sentimental, "and I just want you to know that I'll do my best to keep you away from Dumbledore's past."

"You don't understand," argued Harry, grinning sarcastically, "I need to know more about him and his past; it's like a jigsaw puzzle that needs to be solved."

"Just relax for now, ok?" directed Hermione, helping Harry up. "Take a nap before Quidditch training, allright?"

Harry nodded his head, ignoring his Potions homework that was to be finished. Slowly, many students were beginning to reappear from their dormitories, gathering in the common room. Ron was still downstairs, owing the need to talk to Lavender Brown about a new moved he looked up in '_Quidditch Throughout the Ages_'.

"Harry," spoke Hermione one last time as she approached the boys' dormitory's door, "you'll be fine. Trust me, you'll be fine…"

He gave her a little reluctant grin.

She brushed his lips with a quick kiss, hugged him for a moment, and then stepped back, still gazing at his green eyes. Momentarily, he felt flattered, and disappeared into his dormitory.

Harry was so overwhelmed with feelings. He couldn't tell his friends what it really meant to him. Having the all on his side in dire depression made him feel grateful. He truly needed warmth and comfort along this difficult task. Harry thought he couldn't have done it alone.

That evening, Harry and his teammates were practicing some old and new good moves and techniques. Harry was quite impressed with Ron, for he had pointed out more than five remarkably stunning moves on a broomstick. He later confessed that he actually spent three and a half hours flipping through the last couple of pages of '_Quidditch Throughout the Ages'_. All the same, it made the whole team fascinated. They spent most of time given to them concentrating on the performance of the Twister Attack. It was such an intricate move to perform. For the Twister Attack to take place, the three Chaser and two Beaters had to stick together, and simultaneously watch out for nasty Bludgers. They would then form the shape of a funnel. At the same time, the five would begin swirling around quickly like a destructive tornado. When the opponents approach, the five hastily narrow the space between them, closing the cone. They would also have to be extra careful not to crash into someone. The purpose of the brilliant technique was ultimate distraction.

Another splendidly fine discovery of Ron's was the Hurricane Collapse. As briefly explained in the very pages of the book, again, the three Chaser and two Beaters would get closer to each other, but this time at a low level near to the ground. Gradually, they would rise from the floor, moving in a circle at the meantime. While holding the Quaffle, the opponents would most likely get attracted, in order to capture the balls. Only then, when the five reach the very top of the pitch, they would scatter. Shortly after that, they must rejoin in the bottom, handing each other the Quaffle, zooming through unwatched spaces of the pitch.

On the other hand, after Harry had distinctly watched them practise loads of tiring times, he focused all his concentration on the Wronski Feint. He needed to completely master it before he set foot on the Quidditch pitch. _Much like Krum, _thought Harry.

Although Ron came up with the intelligent ideas, he ironically was going to be stuck in his place, hovering in front of the goalposts.

"Thanks for everything Ron," muttered Harry amicably, as he descended to a lower level on his Firebolt X6, "you've given us lots of help."

"Don't mention it," babble an exhausted Ron, slowly setting his feet on the wet cold grassy ground.

"We're so grateful to you, Ron," said Ginny, beaming.

"Ah, it's nothing," he said, trying to sound not so pleased, "any dumb fool could've easily looked through pages."

The sun had just peered from the horizon, spreading its warm golden rays across the many hills and lands. The Gryffindors have definitely had a nice luxurious sleep, conserving some energy for today's Quidditch match.

Harry yawned, stretching out his arms, as if they were going to touch the ceiling. He hastily put on his glasses, which were set on a nearby table, and moved to the bed directly in front of him.

"Ron," whispered Harry urgently, "Ron, come on, wake up!"

Over and over, Harry shook what he thought was Ron's head.

"Stop it…it tickles!" giggled a sleepy Ron; his head was on the opposite side of his four poster bed.

"Get up Ron," hissed Harry softly, now switching his hand's position to Ron's head.

"Allright…allright," yawned Ron greatly, blinking his eyes, shutting them rapidly as the sun's brilliant light stroke against them.

Harry spent the next few hasty minutes washing up in the bathroom, trying to cheer up his face. When he returned back to his dormitory to change, he regretted waking up Ron earlier. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were in what looked like disastrous trouble, for Ron had been jumping enthusiastically on their beds.

"Quiet down, Ron," started Harry, "you'll wake the girls up in no time!"

"It's about time they wake up too," pointed out Ron, a smile appearing on his cheerful freckled face. Poor Neville had fallen off his bed due to the immense vibrations Ron caused with his horse-play.

"Ouch!" winced Neville in pain, as his head slammed against the cupboard beside him.

"Sorry," apologized Ron in embarrassment, bouncing off Neville's messy bed.

"Ron," bellowed Neville in some agony, "you nearly broke the wood log under the bed! And guess what? You could've been responsible if I broke my skull! My gran wouldn't be too happy, you know!"

"Sorry again," he murmured quietly.

Minutes later, the five boys have practically been ready, speeding out of their dormitory, abandoning it. Although Harry, Ron, and Neville knew they were going to change into the Quidditch robes, it was also obvious that they couldn't just wander along the castle in their pyjamas.

As they walked downstairs, rubbing their eyes with their knuckles, they heard a couple of fourth year girls chattering about the match against Ravenclaw. It was no doubt very noticeable that almost everyone was intrigued. After all, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were commonly known as tough opponents, whose performance greatly thrilled the audience in the pitch.

"Here, have a bite Dean," said Ron, as he shoved some scrambled eggs into Dean's mouth, "you won't be watching us with a bony face like this."

"Ron, you're choking the boy!" growled Seamus, sputtering some corn bread.

"Am I?" asked Ron, and then realized what he had just done. Dean Thomas was coughing his guts out, desperate to reach some water. After he was done rushing the soothing liquid down his full throat, he glared at Ron like a starving lion would when it eyes a doe. Immediately, the angry Dean desired vengeance, chasing the regretful Ron around the Gryffindor table, like a fox chased a hen. From afar, Harry and Hermione laughed loudly, and so did many others, including the jeering Slytherins led by Malfoy.

"Mr. Weasley!" a sharp voice shook Ron's nerves. Professor McGonagall came lagging after him and Dean.

"Do you find yourself incapable of control?" she asked furiously.

"I was just joking with Dean, when he fiercely started chasing after me…" explained Ron, trailing off.

"There was a reason!" added Dean. "He nearly killed me with those scrambled eggs. My throat was as dry as hard firewood, Professor!"

"That'll be enough, Mr. Thomas. You can go back and resume your breakfast," she growled, shooting Ron enraged petrifying looks.

"Mr. Weasley," she whispered when they both made sure Dean was out of earshot, "if you continue this foolishness, then you won't be setting a model for younger students as a prefect. Should you act stupidly anymore, I shall ban you from your broom, you hear? Possibly, Professor Dumbledore wouldn't even give a mere thought about selecting you as Head Boy for next year!"

Ron nodded, vexed.

"Look at who got himself scolded at," joked Malfoy, who mimicked Ron's feet buckling as Professor McGonagall spoke.

Ron didn't say any word, fearful that his noise will attract the Professor's attention again. He, however, smirked at the blonde arrogant Slytherin, and sat down.

"You're one mighty comedian, Ron," laughed Hermione, trying to lower down her giggles by sticking her mouth to the table.

Harry grinned at him, believing that Ron was a magnet for trouble and chaos, much like his twin brothers.

Now came the moments at last. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati left the Great Hall to get their broomsticks, and polish them one more time before the match began.

After that, they all marched enthusiastically to the changing rooms.

"I just can't wait to see Cho's face when you catch the Snitch," muttered Ron, as he put on his Quidditch robes, added to them were the protective pads for the forearms and legs.

Everyone came out momentarily, tightly grasping their broomsticks.

"I have faith in you all," spoke Harry emphatically, "do you best, and remember the training yesterday."

"Now you're sounding like Oliver," commented Hermione, pulling her hair away from her face.

Those were Harry's last encouraging words before the game. In some seconds, the seven mounted their brooms, and took off as the doors were lifted up for them.

"Hello everybody!" spoke the magnified voice of cheerful Colin Creevey. "Welcome to the first semi-final match for this season. On the left of this pitch you'll be seeing the blue, clever Ravenclaws, while the might red Gryffindors shall soar form the right!"

The spectators, including the staff, were all cheering in loud noises, waving for their friends.

"Players," screeched Madam Hooch from the ground, "please take your positions."

They were al neatly lined up where they belonged, while Harry flew forward on his shimmering Firebolt X6.

"Captains, shake hands," directed old Madam Hooch, squinting her eyes.

Harry was absolutely stunned to see who the Ravenclaw Captain was.

"Good luck, Harry," it was Cho, the pretty black-haired Seeker of Ravenclaw, former girlfriend of Harry's.

"You too," he muttered back confidently, as he pulled back his hand.

Hastily, Madam Hooch kicked the crate open, revealing the balls. She lifted the reddish-brown Quaffle, and tossed upwards.

"Aaaaaaand they're off!" yelled Colin Creevey watching in delight.

It seemed that the Ravenclaw Chasers moved their brooms by instinct, following their thoughts.

"The Quaffle is passed to Jefferson…cut off by Granger…passed to Weasley," commentated Colin Creevey, holding up his binoculars. "WHAM! That's got to hurt!"

Neville was tragically hit in the stomach by a Bludger, which carried him off his broom, falling at a very high acceleration. Just in the right time, Hermione took out her wand, and summoned him back to his broomstick.

"Are you allright, Neville?" she asked.

"Yeah," grimaced Neville, "I'll be fine…watch out!"

Another Bludger came zooming in the air towards Hermione's head. She had not time whatsoever to avoid the impact.

"And Miss Brown savers her mate's head with the club," hollered Colin Creevey, moving his binoculars towards the left.

"Thanks…" Hermione was relieved, and went back up in the air.

"When are they going to score?" enquired Ron, with Harry's legs two inches above Ron's head.

"I don't know…you just don't leave your position, and make sure that you hover around the hoops," murmured Harry, as he winged upwards.

"MISS GRANGER SCORES FOR GRYFFINDOR!" shouted Colin, awarding their team ten points.

Harry smiled, while simultaneously meandered around, hunting for a glimpse of gold.

"Look at them go!" yelled Colin, as he noticed the three intelligent Ravenclaw Chasers dashing towards the lower goalpost of Gryffindor.

This was Ron's first chance; either the Quaffle went in or not.

"Great job Ron!" screamed Ginny from afar. Luckily, Ron managed to kick the Quaffle away, millimeters before it penetrated into the hoop.

"Good try Miss Peterson, but no points yet!" giggled Colin.

The game got the audience standing up, seeming so excited. Ravenclaw managed to score a few goals, but thanks to Neville, he made that up, and amazingly threw the Quaffle five times in a row in each of the three hoops.

"Good going, Mr. Longbottom," quacked Colin, pulling on his hood , for he felt chilly wind blow on his mousy hair, "so far the results stand thus: Gryffindor: Sixty points, Ravenclaw: Thirty points."

"Hermione!" mouthed Harry, as he matched the acceleration of his old Firebolt that now belonged to his girlfriend. "_Twister Attack!_"

At once, she understood the message, and pulled sharply to a right angle, frequently lowering her head to avoid being hit by Bludgers, seeking her teammate's gathering.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Colin was virtually dazed. "Apparently…no, it couldn't be…oh, well….get ready Ravenclaws…for the Twister Attack!"

Ron felt like shoving some dung into Colin's mouth. Indeed, they were stunned to see what their opponents were up to.

Some brave Chasers ventured into the tornado funnel formed by Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Parvati, and Lavender. Slowly, Hermione, who was in the lead position, gave signals for her friends to close in. Suddenly, the Ravenclaws were absolutely astonished by how they entered the funnel and got out without noticing the Quaffle. Once the five spread out again, Ginny, who cunningly headed to the goalpost, attracted the Chasers' attention.

"Jefferson, Peterson, and Douglas turn at a sharp difficult angel," observed Colin, "will they manage to get there in time before Miss Weasley?"

But the Ravenclaws were tricked by an amusing joke. Neville, who was flying alone, had the Quaffle masked under his brooms, tightly held between his shivering legs.

"What's the matter?" questioned Max Douglas, confused. "Who's got the Quaffle?"

Instantly, Neville ascended in the air, handing the Quaffle calmly to Hermione from the back. With her magnificent Firebolt, she cruised at a very fast velocity, just passing by Harry for a brief moment. She was getting closer to the goalposts of Ravenclaw. The Keeper, however, did not have the slightest notion of what was sneaking up on him from behind.

"Come on Hermione," whispered Ginny, crossing her fingers. And in a flash of heartbeats, she crept forward out of nowhere, and threw the ball straight into the middle hoop.

"ANOTHER TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!" screamed Colin Creevey happily.

"Clever move, Hermione," complimented Parvati Patil, lowering her head as she discerned a Bludger flying closer.

"The results so far seem to be on Gryffindor's side," chattered Colin Creevey, "seventy to thirty."

Harry was so amazed by how deftly and skillfully Hermione moved on the Firebolt. For ages, he learnt that Hermione's almost biggest fear was to be flying. Nevertheless, her fears looked like they have fled this year. She was a remarkably astonishing flier.

Harry's thoughts were quickly disturbed when a strong wind glided over him. Minutes after he lifted his head, he saw Cho Chang flying at top speed, in a zigzag pattern, moving her hand forward.

At once, he accelerated his broom at a great speed, and followed her lead.

"It looks like," began Colin, pressing the zoom button on his binoculars, "the two Seekers are after the Snitch!"

What Harry didn't truly realize was that Cho was fooling him. She didn't actually see a sign of the little Golden Snitch. Under the pretence of eyeing it, she set off, hoping that Harry would copy her.

"ANOTHER SCORE FOR RAVENCLAW! FOURTY POINTS IN TOTAL!" roared Colin, as Professor McGonagall, who sat on a seat directly behind him, pushed her ear muffs tightly inward.

Harry stopped in his place, just concluding what happened.

"Fooled you, didn't I?' came a girlish voice, Cho's. She was hovering several feet above him, grinning at him, and giving him a wink.

Harry was desperate for sensible words, but continued on circling around the pitch, like a scavenger, hunting for the small golden ball.

Then, in no less than a few moments, he saw it. The Golden Snitch, with its feathery wings spread on either side, was flying upwards near one of the stands. As fast as spreading bonfire, Harry flew in the middle of the pitch, through burly looking Ravenclaws, cautious for Bludgers. Down and up he went. Around the columns he winged, chasing after the wicked fast Snitch.

He heard the breaths of a girl behind him, getting closer every second. At once, he came to a complete halt, and reversed his movement. Harry transported himself back to the other end of the stadium, as the frosty wind blew on his back.

"Go Harry!" yelled Ron from afar, waving one hand, and the other grasping the tail of his broom.

"Harry Potter is currently lagging after the Snitch, while Miss Chang follows," commentated Colin.

Finally, Harry managed to get a fingertip on the winged Snitch.

"Just a bit further!" he yelled to himself. Out of nowhere, Harry was distracted again. Two Bludgers came rushing in his path.

"Not now," he whispered, when Cho came in front of him. He stared at her with wild eyes.

"Look out!" he hollered, pulling her from the tail wig. The Bludgers disappeared into a very far distance.

"That was close!" shrieked Colin in excitement.

Speechless, Harry flew back into the thin air, like a mountain eagle. The Snitch came back to his sight, and he happened to be diving at a sharp slope. Cho was right behind him, pleading for time to slow down.

"He's gonna crash!" grunted Hagrid in between his friends in the Gryffindor Top Box.

"No he's not!" protested Dennis Creevey, watching fervently.

Harry felt the green grass come closer to his eyes, while Cho constantly flew downwards. Momentarily, his mind was taken away when he turned his head. And in instant seconds, the Snitch was gone again. He almost crashed into the floor, had not the smooth movement of his Firebolt X6 saved his neck. He could sense the heat from Cho's face behind him as he incessantly flew forward, looking for any sign of the Snitch.

"JEFFERSON SCORES FOR RAVENCLAW! THAT'LL ADD TEN MORE POINTS!" cried out Colin, as Ravenclaw's total became fifty now.

Harry continued circling above the ground, rising hastily, attempting to deceive Cho in turn. He was going to feint now. He was going to perform the Wronski Feint. Cho grasped the front of her broomstick firmly, and then again, dove, following Harry's scent. Down they came, and Harry could feel the smell of the grass penetrate his nostrils. In a flick of seconds, he pulled out sharply, while Cho tragically crashed. Bits of her broom's tail were cut off, hovering in the air. Meanwhile, she was aching, rubbing her right shoulder, while her left hand ran down her back.

"OOOH! THAT WAS A BRILLIANT DEMONSTRATION OF THE WRONSKI FEINT! LONG LIVES HARRY POTTER!" screamed Colin, beaming, while Professor McGonagall yelled into his ear, scolding him.

After he had succeeded, Harry escaped Cho, not wanting to see her in pain, though it made him a bit remorseful. And then, it was sighted. The Snitch, not two inches above the ground, was flying, and as Harry approached, he could hear his teammates' cries of encouragement. He wasn't going to surrender to the tiring weather, nor did he give up to the pain. He was going to achieve his goal no matter what happened.

"HARRY POTTER CATCHES THE SNITCH! ONE HUNDERED AND FIFTY POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY IN TOTAL! IT IS DONE! THE GAME IS OVER!"

Harry saw the calm face of Professor Dumbledore grin, and then his old hands were clapping, and so were the staff's.

"You did it Harry!" shouted Hermione, flying closer to him, shaking her hands in the air. "You did the Wronski Feint! Didn't I tell you you'd succeed?"

He grinned with satisfaction.

"You've done a great job too," he responded, beaming.

"Well done Harry!"

"Brilliant move Harry!"

"You've mastered the Wronski Feint Harry!"

"Excellent work Harry!"

He constantly heard familiar voices praising him.

"Congratulations," interrupted a soft voice. Cho Chang came near Harry too, shaking his hand.

"Thanks," he murmured, "you've got such a brilliant team this year…and…look, I'm sorry you crashed…"

"No it's allright," she said, smiling, "just a few bruises I'm used to…well, bye then!"

She smiled, fleetingly, called back by her friends.

At this moment, Harry gazed at what looked like a million shining beetles. If only his beloved ones who have gone were here too, he wouldn't have felt any happier.


	39. Attack of the Heliopaths

39 (Attack of the Heliopaths)

Virtually, Harry and his fellow Gryffindors had spent most of the morning celebrating Gryffindor's victory against Ravenclaw. Now that they've won the match, if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw, then they will face Slytherin. Whoever wins that match shall face Gryffindor for the final match of the year.

"That was really cool what you guys did," sang Seamus enthusiastically, "that funnel thingy."

"It's called the Twister Attack," explained Ginny clearly.

"Yeah," agreed Dean, "and Harry was bloody brilliant with the…what's it called?"

"The Wronski Feint," said Hermione, grinning.

"Right," muttered Dean.

Professor McGonagall had indeed been distracted during her lesson. The Gryffindors were still crying out in triumph, although Harry, Ron, and Hermione were more or less annoyed.

"If this hollering goes on furthermore, you'll serve detention!" screeched Professor McGonagall indignantly.

That did the trick; everyone's enthusiasms subsided, and they returned back to normalcy.

As a compromise, Professor McGonagall consented to the let them continue their party and celebration at the end of the lesson only if they paid their undivided attention to a necessary aspect of Transfiguration, the Scrusanstic Theory.

"Now," she spoke sternly, "if you would kindly copy down what's on the blackboard. This will be vital for you to know before you sit your pre-N.E.W.T testing and final exam."

Again, Ron's face turned pale and yellow.

The Scrusanstic Theory of Transfiguration was developed by one of the most gifted Animagi of the eleventh century, Srucencious Alador. His ability to adapt to any environment surrounding him created a huge turning point for Srucencious. He found out that witches or wizards can actually transform into all sorts of animals and beasts at will. Accordingly to his theory, Srucencious discovered that the ability of transformation into another creature was mostly given at birth, much like being a Metamorphagus. It may sometimes inherited from relatives of the family, especially two generation upwards. Therefore, his profound theory explained that being an Animagus could rarely be learned. However, several philosophers a good while after Srucencious's time have come up with an exception to his point. They did agree that it was difficult to be learned, yet, it could be learned. They also discussed the many ways to be an Animagus, including being cursed, bitten by an animal, born an Animagus, having a creature's blood in your own, or learn to be one. Eventually, those philosophers devised a few ways that may turn out to be tough and difficult, all leading to become a unique Animagus. It also required strong determination and bravery, for it may cause pain and agony beyond anything at all.

"We'll talk more about this special theory later on in the week," called Professor McGonagall, as her wand erased the letters on the dusty blackboard, "pack up, and you may be dismissed when the bell rings. No homework for today."

Ron was relieved; however, Neville was unfortunate. Just when he was about to start copying off the second to last sentence, McGonagall cleared the board. It was common knowledge how slow Neville turned out to be, much unlike his own father. Amicably, Hermione offered him her notes for later that evening, just before the Study Society meeting began. Meanwhile, Dean and Seamus were put down too, because they didn't have the chance to set free some Exploding-Snap Crackers.

"It's very interesting, isn't it Hermione? I mean I've never know that story about the guy! Don't you find it intriguing? Huh? What do you think Hermione?"

Harry and Ron both giggled quietly as they climbed up the stairs, listening to Neville's gossiping. They both perfectly knew that he only kept talking about the subject to remind Hermione about lending him her notes. He wasn't to be blamed, though, because his marks were dropping lower and lower as the term went on. Nevertheless, sometimes, Neville could be more obnoxious than Mr. Filch chasing after Dungbombs across the hallway.

Harry had just bypassed the common room through the Portrait hole to purchase his forgotten Charms textbook. He also happened to be carrying around his prized Firebolt X6; all the girls that gazed it let out sighs of excitement.

He carefully set his magnificent broomstick in his trunk, beside some old, rotten, smelly, repulsive socks that once belonged to Uncle Vernon. Then, as Harry intended to pick up the book and proceed to departure, he heard a soft tapping noise on the window in front of him. When he raised his eyes, looking up, Hedwig was there, hooting, her wings spread widely, flapping immensely in the air.

Quickly, Harry dropped his book on the cupboard near his four poster bed, and reached for the window, unlocking it. In came his white wintry owl, a letter in a parcel tied around her skinny leg. She rested momentarily on the windowsill, her amber eyes gazing curiously at Harry's eyes.

_Dear Harry,_

_We met Dumbledore a week ago, and we've had a little chat with him about events going on at school. As you probably know by now, he had asked for some old friends to join us in the Order, and Ministry of Magic. Their job was and still is providing protection and safety against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. Of course, we're talking about the Noble Rangers of the South._

_They happen to be splendidly amazing warriors, but mysterious people indeed. They seldom reveal their secretive plans to anyone at all, with the exception of us and Dumbledore. But we're asking you Harry to be polite to them…and don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong, Harry. Please, don't interfere in their business; it will only make things more complicated and postponed. What we also have a tip about is that they can be really hazardous around youngsters like yourself and friends. So please be careful, and don't act foolish enough to be intruding into what doesn't concern you. We're not denying that you've got a lot of greatness in you, Harry, but for everybody's sake, stay calm._

_Yours truly,_

_Molly Weasley and the Order_

At least, now he was relieved that somebody else also knew about these Rangers. The Order has clearly co-operated with those men, and agreed to have them at Hogwarts for extra care and protection. Of course, to Harry, that seemed like remembering Professor Dumbledore's words. Harry was beginning to notice how much the old Headmaster cared for the wizard race; it was pure loyalty to peace in him. And ever since Voldemort had risen again, he instantly called to reunite the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps for some reason, Dumbledore couldn't extinguish Voldemort's life. It couldn't be simple, of course, due to his numerous escapes from being caught. Yet, although he was on the loose, Voldemort started gathering as many Death Eaters as he could. He also called to recruit the last of the giants in his service, and added to that, every other Dark magical creature possible. Harry remembered how Hagrid's arrival was delayed two months in his fifth year, due to a difficult task Dumbledore appointed him to. Hagrid wasn't meant to bring a giant back home, but at least, he did his duty, along with Madam Maxime. The Dementors, however, are a hopeless case. They already left Azkaban and only a smattering of them remains at the service of the Ministry of Magic. As Harry thought, it was only a matter of time before they joined their mates.

"Harry?" broke in a sudden rough voice.

Harry's eyes immediately shifted backwards to discern the figure of Ron, leaning against the wall, his knees buckling. Surely, Harry hadn't realized how long he's been in his dormitory. Possibly, Ron's knees might've started to buckle from exhaustion.

"What's taking you so long? We'll be late," chattered Ron, getting up. Without the slightest notice from Ron, Harry unobtrusively dropped the letter to the ground, picked up his book, and left.

During Charms class, tiny Professor Flitwick made a quick revision about the Sinkle Charm, going briefly over its characteristics. Later on, he was introducing them to a fairly simple background about the Confundus Charm, which happened to be very complex, and even beyond NEWT level. Of all people, Hermione no doubt found no difficulty whatsoever in understanding the main basic points leading to the charm, for she had read over three hundred pages of it in the various library books. To the majority's relief, Flitwick had confessed that they won't be actually starting to try out the Charm until perhaps the very end of next year…or perhaps during their academic achievement in Hogwarts.

"It's so incredible once you get used to it…but also dangerous once you meddle improperly with it," said Hermione matter-of-factly as she, Harry, and Ron picked up their schoolbags, approaching the exit door.

"Everything's so fascinating to you, isn't it, Hermione?" giggled Ron.

"Probably, you don't realize how effective and strong it is," suggested Hermione, grinning.

"Hey, remember how Snape claimed that we were Confunded by old Sirius in third year?" asked Ron, coming to a complete halt. Somehow, he felt that he hurt Harry's feelings by mentioning his dead godfather.

"It's allright, Ron," said Harry, noticing a tense mood on his friend's face.

"Sorry…didn't mean to…"

"I said I'm fine," hissed Harry seriously.

"Look, what's Malfoy doing?" pointed out Hermione.

Draco Malfoy, which amazingly happened to be solitary, but not joined by his cronies, was gazing mysteriously at a brick wall. His eyes were very focused and wide open, alarmed. His mouth was as wide as it could spread, possibly in mere shock, and his blonde hair flew in the frigid air as the wind came by.

"Not up to any trouble, are you now, Malfoy?" questioned Harry, gripping his wand tightly in his pocket, as he stepped closer to his arch-rival.

Not one squeak, not one tiny little squeak emerged from his vocal cords.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" enquired Ron, mystified.

"Get out of the way, Weasel Bee!" articulated Malfoy, pushing Ron out of his path. Off he went, speed walking, not daring to turn around his head.

"Something's not ordinary with him," mumbled Hermione, helping Ron off the ground.

Harry moved his hand up the brick wall, feeling its texture. Clearly, there was nothing strange or queer about it. It just felt like it was supposed to feel. Nevertheless, the vivid looks on Malfoy's face indicated something weird indeed. It was something suspicious, so exotic that it curled his tongue.

"Weird, I wonder what's in his mind," spoke Harry uncertainly, and decided to follow Malfoy's track in the snow that showed tiny bits of grass.   
From afar, Harry, Ron, and Hermione noticed how odd Malfoy was acting. Every now and then, he paused, like a cat stalking a scurrying mouse, so cautious. He looked around him whenever he was in corners, surrounded by nothing but air and stone. After that, he hastily ran downstairs. The three ran faster in turn, stepping forward.

"I think he's going to the dungeons," suggested Hermione, and they all moved together at once.

Slowly, they crept forward to the dimly lit Potions classroom's door. Like eavesdroppers, or more likely in this situation, they were in fact real eavesdroppers, they had their ears stuck to the door.

"…it scared me Professor," they heard Malfoy's trembling voice, "…it talked…directly to me…appeared….out of nowhere…"

"What exactly did you see?" came the eerie voice of a determined Snape.

"Dunno…it looked like…no specific form…just a shade…a shadow," continued Malfoy in a shaky voice.

"What precisely did it tell you?"

"Just as I said…the warning…terrible attack…possible death….flew away…"

"Very well Mr. Malfoy," sounded the voice of Snape, coolly. "You may leave now…but not a word of this to anyone. Understood?"

"Yeah…I mean…perfectly, sir," whimpered Malfoy, as Harry saw him approaching the door through the keyhole.

Hastily, the three came to dead silence, hiding behind the hinge of the door. It would've been wise for Harry to have brought his Cloak, but of course, the circumstances altered a bit. A tremulous blonde-haired boy strode outside the classroom. Shortly after his departure, Ron eyed a long black cloak emerging from behind the door.

"_Diffindo!_" whispered Hermione as calmly as she could, and instantly, she bewitched a jar on one of the shelves to fall. Snape's attention was attracted, drawing him backwards.

Swiftly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione escaped the dungeons, lucky to have avoided the Potions Master's fury.

"That was really close," mouthed Ron.

"Don't you think he spotted us?" asked Hermione anxiously.

"Nah," said Harry, "but what was that talk all about? With Malfoy?"

"Dunno," replied Ron vaguely, "but he definitely mentioned something about a warning."

"There's something that's going to happen around Hogwarts," acknowledged Hermione, "something sort of … bad."

"Tell us about it," joked Ron, grabbing the Divination class's doorknob.

"This is no laughing matter, Ron," barked Hermione, feeling kind of provoked.

"Don't mind him," giggled Harry," see you later."

They both bade Ron goodbye as he stepped into the grassy threshold.

"Harry, what do you expect?" was the first thing Hermione asked as soon as the door was shut.

"Expect of what?"

"I mean…what do you think Malfoy was hinting?" repeated Hermione, more clearly now.

"I…I don't know," he responded reluctantly, "but whatever it is, inevitably, it's going to be dangerous…or perhaps more…lethal. Besides, how many warnings have we had this year already?"

"Yeah, this is what's giving me the shivers," said Hermione earnestly. "That crow foretold us about future attacks, numerous attacks, on Hogwarts later on in the year."

For some brief moments, there was silence.

"I've been waiting too long for him," muttered Harry, "perhaps he would show up like usual at the end of the year."

Instantaneously, Hermione understood his indirect message. He was talking, of course, about Voldemort.

"Well…see you," he murmured, after walking Hermione to her Ancient Runes classroom.

"Bye," she said swiftly, dashing inwards.

During the interim between that particular moment of temporary farewell and the start of next class, Harry kept wondering what Malfoy saw. Possibly, it could've been a trick of his, in order to somehow play a prank on Harry and his mates. Or perhaps his ultimate purpose was to make teachers act more leniently with him. But no. Impossible. Another thought, not so obscure, interrupted in Harry's preoccupied mind. There was nothing mystical, vague, or untrue about the serious looks on Malfoy's vexed face. He was indeed dreading something, and presumably, kept it as a secret. But as usual, he might as well as confided in his most trusted, favourite teacher, Professor Snape. Other than that, the blonde Slytherin wouldn't find any other source for some relief. Nevertheless, these thoughts of Malfoy's behaviour turned out inconsequential to the solid true fact that he had received a warning. What mattered most to Harry now, was finding Malfoy's fear.

"Quiet down everyone," spoke Harry loudly. The sixth year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs were deeply hooked up in various conversations. Harry, in this case, happened to arrive early this day, for the bell has just rung.

His eyes traveled across his own classroom, floating above every single head, concealed under vast amount of hair, or none at all, or maybe a smattering of it. Finally, Malfoy's white-blonde hair was spotted. When Harry looked at him directly in the face, it was pale. Draco was all but staring into his textbook, motionlessly. He looked like a vulnerable puppy that's been taken away by force from its parents.

Through that period, Harry scarcely managed to explain the outcomes of being poisoned by a Liliopid, a creature with the head of a frog, and the body of a hen. Accordingly to the author of the book selected for sixth years, Liliopids were considered a special species of magical beasts, one that prizes the quality of being intensely venomous. The process of causing damage to a victim was simple as counting the number of oranges growing on a tree. Usually, there would be a translucent leathery covering for the Liliopid's eyelids. The creature seldom lifts them up, except when it's being provoked or threatened. Should that be the case, the creature would open its eyes, spraying the prey or victim with a boiling hot fluid of creamy colour. Thus, the victim's eyes would gradually decay, and blindness would be sure to yet come. And unfortunately to some people, if the Liliopid considers releasing a rather large dosage of the venom, instant paralysis would await the victim, and sometimes even death.

As Harry went on with the lecture, he related the Liliopids to Dark magic, by means of further talking. Over time, many Death Eaters have come to befriend all sorts of docile creatures found amongst the earth. Now, according to history, a group of Death Eaters recruited by Lord Voldemort have gone on an expedition to the east of land, discovering almost every beast of a mind that could easily be manipulated. Eventually, the Death Eaters came up with what now became a popular custom. They befriended Liliopids, using them as terrific weapons against their enemies. Afterall, regardless of how small the creatures were, are, their power of physical destruction could be really serious.

Simultaneously, Harry's mind crept to the very core of his troubled, overwhelmed heart. It was shaking nervously, every beat sounding like a hazardous tremor. Even his looks had a symbol of anxiety, for he found the students staring at him, somehow confused. Every once in a while, he shot a determined look into Malfoy's direction. Of course, the disturbed boy took no notice. He only continued listening to the rest of the discussion, calmly.

It seemed almost like an age before the vigorous ringing of the bell was sounded. Immediately, they all began to arise out of their seats, carrying up their schoolbags. There was no homework assigned by Harry. Then, he seized his chance for a confrontation with Malfoy, even under the pain of being reported.

"Malfoy," he spoke, "I would like a word."

The Slytherin prefect gave Harry a sneer, took his schoolbag off his shoulder, and sank back into his seat.

Slowly, Harry put away his own copy of the book, and approached with vigilance.

"I sense that something is troubling you, Malfoy," he began, recalling the words of an old man in his second year.

"What makes you think so, Potter?" he asked rudely, grinning wickedly.

"Mind your manners now, Malfoy. I don't fancy docking a few points from you…not at the moments I don't. Now, tell me, is there something wrong?"

"No," replied Malfoy, as if he had spoke at the same time his teacher did.

"Look, I know there's something scaring the daylights out of you, so don't lie," muttered Harry tauntingly, "I know."

"What do you know, Potter?" sneered the arrogant Malfoy.

"It doesn't matter because it's none of you concern, Malfoy," interrupted Harry, his temper nearly reaching the surface, "what matters is that something, a mystery perhaps, is causing you distress and uneasiness. And as the so-called Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, it is my duty to protect your and your thick brain from danger, even though we still are both sixteen!"

Nothing of that anger, concern, and urge altered Malfoy's mind. Deep down, he knew that if he spilled out the secret, the Slytherin Head of House, slimy Professor Snape, wouldn't be so pleased. Perhaps he longed for a taste of fame, by means of preventing whatever attack yet to happen. In the meantime, Harry's patience was beginning to be extinguished.

"For the last time, Malfoy," continued Harry briskly, "tell me, what's going on?"

The ignorant boy just sat there, his eyes opened in the way a hawk opens them when stalking toothsome prey.

"I'm not telling you a single word, Potter," rejected Malfoy, grinning, "I suppose it's about time someone else played the role of the hero around here."

Harry's face grew redder, as if steam had just exited his ears. The sixth years worth of hatred and loathe of Malfoy reached the top peak.

"I'm not done yet! Sit down!" shouted Harry, enraged.

However, Draco just ignored him, eyeing him like a torturer.

"Do what you want, Potter. But mark my words; nothing of what you said and possibly, certainly, shall say in the future will change anything about this situation," he mouthed, arrogantly.

It was then when he disappeared out of the classroom, much like a slithering serpent.

As though the lava was just about to rise and leave the top opening of a volcano mountain, Harry began to lose his grip. He instantly started kicking tables and chairs. He nearly demolished the whole classroom, had not his eyes witnessed the sabotage he did to the furniture. The bell was due to ring any minute now, and he had to flee, even though he didn't mind being late anymore.

Angry as he was, Harry stormed out of the class, clutching his wand hysterically, imagining that Malfoy was nearby. When he gained complete sense again, he moved on, but still through gritted teeth. The sword of Anystal remained safe and secure in his robes, masked well so that it wouldn't be visible to the eyes of different pursuers. He came to think that the past five minutes were easily rated as the most despicable moments of his life with Malfoy. Harry's intention was not just discovering a secret, or as Malfoy put it, acting out a hero, but it was really for everybody's own good. Something dreadful was going to occur, and he might not have the slightest chance halting it. Other than that, Harry didn't seek more spotlights and publicity. It was enough to list out his fears that had already crossed his mind. All he ever yearned for was to vanquish the Dark Lord, once and for all, bringing back peace and serene sensations to the wizard race.

In the meantime, Harry's utter fury was a bit mollified by some delicious food, house-elf made, from the kitchens of the great castle.

"Did you talk to Malfoy?" asked Hermione, moving aside Lavender Brown's pink bracelets.

"Yes, but no result," responded Harry at once, reliving those moments.

"What happened?" enquired Ron, losing his appetite to some roast chicken.

"Nothing. He kept quiet…that's all," said Harry solemnly.

"That rotten git! You know, I think it's time for me to use my prominent position in this school and go ahead and report him. Nothing would be more satisfying to see Dumbledore chuck Malfoy out of this dwelling!" babbled Ron gleefully.

"Ron, no," declined Hermione, inserting her heavy Arithmancy book into her schoolbag, "even if you happen to be a prefect…"

"Hermione, do you realize what you're saying? You're siding with Malfoy!" wept Ron.

"I am not siding with anyone," she admitted through slightly gritted teeth, "I just don't want things to get out of control."

"When was there ever control while he was around?" pointed out Harry, grabbing a copy of _The Quibbler _left over since breakfast.

The front page had reported some interesting facts about vicious Fire Eaters that appeared somewhere in Norway, causing intense uneasiness to the local citizens. Apparently, they were endangered of becoming extinct, thus fled across the coasts, searching for some last appetizers of humans.

As Harry's intrigued eyes moved downwards, he saw a big title in bold letters: **'St. MUNGO'S CALLS FOR HELP'**. This created some sort of paradox, as Harry had thought. Naturally, the hospital was rather large and magical, crammed with people traveling up and down, left and right, into the different wards, visiting various patients of numerous infections and catastrophes. Harry remembered now how the mood was last year when he saw Mr. Weasley bitten by a snake. He, accompanied by the Weasleys and Hermione, had journeyed over to the hospital.

"What's with St. Mungo's?" asked Ron, who looked interested.

"Didn't you hear? They've been writing this for days now," said Hermione confidently, "I've borrowed a copy of last Monday's edition from Luna."

"Well, tell us," requested Ron demandingly, grinning. Harry placed the upside-down magazine on the table, and decided to listen closely to Hermione.

"They've been running out of Healers for seven months consecutively," she explained matter-of-factly, "people complained that a vast amount of Healers retired because of old age. Others have left for personal business. The last bit of them, though, was murdered by Death Eaters, unobtrusively of course, last summer."

"Murdered?" queried Ron, sounding paralyzed.

"Remember how last year that man received a Devil's Snare, mistaken for a nice pot plant?" said Hermione.

"So they're doing the slaughtering following the same pattern," analyzed Ron.

"Just like Mad-Eye said," reminded Harry cleverly, "they do their master's command in deception."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement and remembrance.

"There used to be over six hundred and twenty Healers at St. Mungo's," she added, bringing along some statistics, "now there are only three hundred…maybe less, way less."

"But isn't that enough?" asked Harry stupidly.

"No," protested his girlfriend, flipping through the pages of the _Sunday Prophet_, "if it was, why would they ever call for help?"

During the daybreak, Harry, Ron, and Hermione fancied a short walk outside on the school grounds, bypassing several oak trees. There was a soft breeze, soothing enough to make you feel free as a bird, blowing into their faces and hairs. Simultaneously, they decided, or rather Hermione did, to complete another wearisome Transfiguration homework.

Under a large beech, opposite to the lake, the three sat down. At once, Hermione burst into involuntary giggles when she felt something tickling her, climbing up her back, soon reaching her neck, and then jumping off.

"It was a squirrel," said Harry, watching the tiny creature make its way up to an opening in the tree's trunk.

"Where did it come from, anyway?" asked Ron, watching Hermione take out her quill, and to his horror, eight rolls of parchment.

For the next few minutes, the three of them thoroughly discussed the information that was needed to put into the homework. As usual, a fact of matter that became somehow trite, Hermione pointed out many intricate details and bits of knowledge that Harry and Ron never guessed.

"The wand movement is supposed to be vertical and fast, Ron, not circular at a slowpoke rate," she explained, as she noticed the slight lapsed he recorded on the roll of parchment.

As Harry's quill gradually scratched against the rough surface of the parchment, he was attracted by a deep voice that happened to be familiar and recently learned too. He only heard it several days ago, when the Nobel Rangers of the South arrived. Hesitantly, he lifted his eyes from the low height of staring at parchment and quill to the water level, looking directly at the magical lake.

"Look at that!" sighed Harry in excitement, nudging Ron and Hermione in the shoulders.

Reluctantly, the pair of them moved their eyes upwards into a far distance. As Harry expected them to be, they were both intrigued.

"The Orchentaci!" mouthed Hermione. The seven whale-like creatures that had acted as a source of transporting the Ranges to Hogwarts were hovering inches or some feet above the surface of the blue water. Their long curly tentacles spread deep into the water for some moisture. Those jelly-like wings of them kept flapping in the cool air, gaining them some balance.

"Hey!" said Ron in a rather louder voice than a usual monotone. "Check that out!"

At his urging words, Harry and Hermione discerned a spiral movement in the calm, undisturbed water. In a flash of seconds, substantial tentacles shot out of the water and grabbed one of the Orchentaci, drowning it down. It was the giant squid, pulling another spacious creature into the deepness of the lake. Harry was a bit disquieted at that sigh. Nonetheless, one flashback was enough to remind him that the giant squid was related to them, accordingly to Dumbledore.

"Just imagine," gossiped Ron gleefully, "how it would be if Hagrid taught us about Orchentaci next year?"

"I don't think so," rejected Hermione, grinning, "the whole Forbidden Forest wouldn't fit all seven of them."

"Yeah, they're so gigantic," agreed Harry.

"Who said it would be seven to be resident in the forest?" asked Ron matter-of-factly. "One would do. Six would go back home safely."

Harry and Hermione giggled softly, when Harry's eyes were penetrated by a reflected light.

"What's that you've got, Ron?" he asked, squinting his eyes, trying to look at Ron's robes. A feather was all what was sticking out.

"Oh, this," he muttered, and slowly pulled out the feather. But it wasn't a feather at all. Instead, it was as brilliant looking, perfectly carved arrow.

"Where did you get this?" enquired Hermione curiously.

"Firenze," replied Ron, holding out the arrow, "he gave it to me as present…for what he claims to be superb performance…and…well…"

"It's great," complimented Harry, admiring the long colourful peacock feather.

"It sure is," agreed Ron, pushing aside his Transfiguration assignment. "He also said that I can really use it, you know…like…a weapon to kill..."

"Of course you can use it, Ron," murmured Harry teasingly, "what else do you think its purpose is? Knitting more hats for S.P.E.W?"

Surprisingly, Hermione didn't feel offended whatsoever.

"Maybe you'll use it to slay whatever Malfoy dreads to speak of," suggested Hermione, more or less.

"We'll just find out after a long good patience," muttered Ron, sticking the arrow carefully into his robes.

Momentarily, the old school bell was sounded again, and everyone congregated around the gates again. There were some first years being bullied by Malfoy and his cronies; of course, that's what they thought of as a great sport. Hermione, although from afar, sensed mournful tears shining in those little petrified eyes.

"That evil twisted prefect!" she boomed in disapproval.

The rest of the afternoon seemed so short indeed, and the shadows of various trees acme down the many windows. Harry was just finished with his lesson, his legs looking supposedly frail. He had staggered around the classroom many times, supervising students practicing a complex disarming charm. Neville was so lucky to succeed; his poor memory of the incantation was the reason he hesitated every time he raised his wand at Parvati.

"I wish we had learned that in the DA last year," murmured Neville softly, "I could've mastered it by now."

"There's nothing to it more than courage, confidence, and determination," said Harry, as he looked at his lesson planner for tomorrow.

"That was very exciting," muttered Hermione briskly, "I knocked you as good as seven times."

"Did not," protested Ron, "you cheated…when I looked at the other side, staring at Dean being curled up like a twitching spider, you thought of an ambush."

"You weren't looking at the other side, Ron," she declined honestly, raising his eyebrows.

"Allright," came Harry's voice over the many heads, "anyone who's been hurt, please help yourself to the Hospital Wing. Other than that, you may leave."

The students reluctantly moved away from their tables, when cleared this throat sharply, as if reminding Harry of a vital matter.

"Oh…and no homework," he pointed out happily, as Ron's grin grew wider across his cheeks.

"You should've given us something," said Hermione, eager to strain her fingers on a piece of homework.

"Why should I?" asked Harry dully. "It's enough you and they have got the main idea."

Shaking her head, Hermione left the classroom, shortly followed by Ron, and last but not least, Harry. For the final time, he glanced at a seat in his classroom, as seat once occupied by Draco Malfoy. He couldn't help thinking about tomorrow, after it, or even days later. Something was to come, accordingly to Malfoy's secret.

"Aren't you coming?" called Hermione, her bag over her shoulder, and hers arms folded.

Harry's mind drifted away, as he locked the door.

"Here," mentioned Harry, dropping Hagrid's gift into Ron's palms.

"Oh, the eggs," whispered Ron, hit tongue watering.

"Better give this to Hermione," muttered Harry, as he left his dormitory, hauling the heavy egg.

She was sitting in the corner near her dormitory's door, returning a borrowed copy of "Remnants of the Past" to Lavender Brown, who happened to be weirdly interested in studying Ancient Runes for next year. She wasn't to be blamed; long has she been interested in monuments, ruins, and towers.

"Hermione?" said Harry, standing just inches before the entrance into the girls' dormitory, peering in.

Her eyes turned around, and she came forward.

"Thank you, Harry," she said heavily, as she carried the egg, "I've just been wondering where it was…it's about time for something sugary, although my parents wouldn't recommend it."

Afterwards, Harry walked back to his small little dwelling in the common room, noticing that Ron was holding an oval shaped brick of honey between his fingers.

"Sweet an' crispy," he muttered unclearly, a mouthful of honey in his mouth.

Harry had lost his appetite for what looked like a scrumptious pieced of honey. Instead, he still had a heavy burden on his shoulders. He was incessantly worrying about Malfoy's ignorance and secrecy. Regardless of being just sixteen and not yet of age, Harry also was prized the gift of being a teacher. It felt like it was mainly his responsibility; After all, he had saved many necks on countless occasions. He nearly killed himself, though, showing unbelievable dare and valour. Yet, he didn't have the slightest idea. But then, he figured out something. It might have been the shadow that he saw earlier, the one that warned him of the Wolf of the Eighth Floor. _Impossible, _interrupted a voice in Harry's head, _why would something like that come as a hindrance into Malfoy's path? Or did it? _

His anxiety grew stronger, and Harry found no other solution but to seek help and advice from the Order. It was always wise to receive precaution notices from them, for they cared too much about his and others' safety at first, he did think of himself as being pathetic, but that was fleeing. As an instant afterthought, Harry decided that it was best to write to them.

Harry seized a quill from his schoolbag, and took out a bottle of ink, a piece of parchment beside it. For a moment, he paused. Who would Harry most likely address the letter to?

_Dear Professor Lupin, _(and Mad-Eye if you're there)

_This morning, Ron, Hermione, and I witnessed Malfoy acting strangely. We thought it was somehow funny but unexplainable. He was staring, his eyes fixed, at a brick wall, but it was noticeable that he was concerned about something vague…something perhaps scared him…he had bewildered looks in his troubled wild eyes. Later in the day, we followed him to the dungeons. He, of course, told Snape all about it, all we managed to hear from behind the door was that Malfoy received a warning from a thing. Then, Snape ordered him to leave the class and not to tell anyone about it. So, what do you reckon? _

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

He read the letter three times in succession before he actually secured in the parcel.

"Hey," he muttered, looking at Hedwig, "you've got to go on a little journey."

Gently, Harry tied the parcel around her skinny left leg, patted her on the feather head, and watched her take off, soaring into the blue sky.

"Who are you writing to?" spoke a concerned voice that happened to belong to Neville.

"Never mind," mouthed Harry, ignoring his rudeness.

Nothing had distracted his worried mind at all…not even the second semi-final match that was due in mid-February. Not even Voldemort or his Death Eaters.

It was nearly dusk when Harry heard a monotone voice cease to speak. Thankfully, Hermione had just ended a ritual in the common room. She was done her discussion and meeting with the burly looking seventh years, who had been dreading N.E.W.Ts already.

"I'm starving," came Parvati's earnest voice, as she climbed up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Me too," muttered Lavender, who was also agreed by Ginny and two of her fifth year friends.

Harry's attention was drawn when Ron stepped into the dormitory, chattering enthusiastically with Dean and Seamus about his brand new arrow.

"Cool," said Dean, stroking the brilliant peacock feather.

"It is surely sharp," commented Seamus, carefully placing his index finger on the tip of the arrow.

"Just be careful not to take somebody's eyeball out, Ron," joked Harry, stretching his hands in the air, yawning quietly.

"No," said Ron, placing his arrow as gently as possible, as if he feared it might suddenly snap in half, on his pillow, "it's two precious to waste…maybe I'll use it someday."

Neville let out a small soft chuckle wondering if Ron will ever slay a dragon, and save a fair maiden.

The rest of the evening was a bit amusing, for Harry and Ron had a little game of Gobstones. Oddly, this time, Ron won. It seemed like recently, everything turned to his benefit. Harry, on the other hand, was still thinking about the Order's response to his letter. Simultaneously, he fell guilty for not doing his homework for Potions that was due in three days' time, and he knew that he had to research a lot of information out of possibly more than seven books from the library. Hermione could've obviously helped him, but Harry thought she would refuse. She always encouraged that he and Ron would be self dependent, not independent. Besides, she happened to be quite busy. Hermione had loads of homework herself for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. In addition to that, she scheduled that sixty more hats were to be knitted before nightfall.

Dinner went on fine, except that Chief Altazark was present at the staff table, talking with Professor Dumbledore. He seemed to inform him of something of fundamental importance, for he took so long to end the everlasting conversation. As he left, the Headmaster was left with an expression of gratitude on his face. At the same time, the old man's eyes displayed a smattering of growing anxiety, fear, and apprehension. Nevertheless, he had too much wearisome work awaiting him in his own office in the Ministry of Magic.

"Something's going on," commented Ron, watching Chief Altazark glide out of the Great Hall, "and Dumbledore's hushed it up."

"Maybe," suggested Hermione, eating some chocolate pudding for dessert, "and maybe not. He would possibly be having a nice little chat with him about usual matters of Hogwarts and the Ministry."

"Most likely not!" objected Harry holly. "He wouldn't be hired by Dumbledore if he was just babbling about something silly…it's probably pertaining to an event that's going to take place here."

"I bet Dumbledore has already foreseen it," muttered Ron, irritably.

That made Harry boil faster from the inside, and Hermione shot Ron a look-what-you've-done glance.

Of course, the Headmaster always claimed that everyone was perfectly safe, and urged them to remain clam. Only, he's probably seeing a dozen of dreadful things coming to the school. Harry kept wondering. Would he know about the Wolf of the Eight Floor? Has he seen it coming?

"Well, goodnight mate," spoke Ron, as he turned away from Harry, marching off with Hermione.

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Prefect duty," explained Hermione, waving goodbye.

"At nine o'clock in the night?" muttered Harry to himself.

"Well, I won't be waiting all night for you to speak the password. Either enter or be off, now," lisped the Fat Lady.

Momentarily, Harry mouthed the password, glaring at the Fat Lady. The common room was practically deserted, except for poor Dennis Creevey, who was tiring his eyes and hands by arranging rolls of parchment that were reaching a foot and a half in height now.

"Keep on the nice work, Dennis," giggled Harry sympathetically, and the boy gave him a thumbs up.

He changed into his pyjamas, and crept into his soft comfortable bed, leaving his Potions homework behind. Reluctantly, he took off his glasses, which caused him to see a blur of many things. He carefully stationed the sword of Anystal under his fluffy white pillow, gave the starry night sky one more gaze, and then sank into his dreams.

The night, in Harry's opinion, had rushed so quickly that Harry hadn't the time to have the usual dreams about the murky room, Dementors holding him up in the air, and the green flash of light. Time passed by like lightening; it was already six thirty in the morning. Noticing that he was the only boy awake in the dormitory, Harry looked at the window, as if expecting Hedwig to arrive with a fair response from the Order of the Phoenix. However, he knew she couldn't manage that journey in a short period of time. Therefore, he pushed his hands under the pillow, and picked up Anystal. Careful not to bang it on anything, he slowly set it on his trunk. Momentarily, he held his school robes and changed into them.

The thoughts of the previous day were still haunting Harry's mind. How Snape's eerie demanding voice commanded Malfoy to leave. How the stubborn voice refused to accept Harry's interrogation. Everything seemed so mysterious, yet so annoying.

"Hi Harry!" came a cheering voice, Colin Creevey's.

"Hullo Colin," replied Harry automatically, as he sat down on the house-table.

"It's a bit chilly, isn't it? Isn't it, Harry?" chattered Colin, who always thought of Harry as a big famous hero.

"I guess so," mouthed Harry dully, rubbing his palms against each other.

"I was wondering where you have gone to," a loud voice was heard.

"Hello Ron," muttered Harry, helping himself to some bacon and eggs.

"Hey, want to know what happened last night?" babbled Ron, sounding a bit excited.

"What?"  
"Well," began Ron, placing some porridge in his empty spotless bowl, "when Hermione and I were done with our prefect duty, I fancied going to the library."

Harry raised an eyebrow, while at the same time chewing on bacon.

"I looked up some famous weapons," explained Ron, pouring some skimmed milk into his glass, "and my arrow was there, nameless though. But anyway, the picture in the book was exactly identical to the one Firenze gave me. And when I read about its uses, I was totally astonished!"

"How so?" asked another intrigued voice. Hermione had just arrived at the Gryffindor house-table, carrying her usually massive schoolbag.

"Um…" hesitated Ron, trying to recall the arrow's functions, "oh yeah…it can be used to slay all kinds of beasts…except giants…and, erm…yeah, I can toss it up in the air, and it would glow to perform a signal…it can also make a whistling sound if I carve a hole through the sharp end….that's also a signal…and…"

"Fascinating," said Hermione, grinning. "See how useful the library can sometimes be?"

"Firenze must've seen something in you that made you worthy of this weapon," said Harry, smiling.

Ron felt flattered, and blushed red.

When it was time for mail, every neck in the Great Hall stretched upwards, anticipating an owl. A vast flock of immense grey, brown, and light red bypassed. Harry impatiently turned around at all angles, hopeful to catch a glimpse of a white owl with amber eyes, but nonetheless, there was no sign of Hedwig at all.

Hermione had Sweetums deliver some sugar free cookies from home, along with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Ron, on the other hand, was sent some toothsome Cauldron Cakes, and a copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry remained silent throughout his breakfast, a bit depressed that Hedwig didn't show up. Again, he couldn't blame her. The usual chattering across the Great Hall subsided when everybody's attention turned to Peeves. Floating high above everyone's heads, Peeves, the poltergeist, was racketing around some second year girls, throwing a few Sticky-Jelly Syrup sweets on top of their hats or heads. Instantly, Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, set off to search the Bloody Baron. It was by now common knowledge that he was the only person feared by Peeves. Momentarily, the obnoxious poltergeist flew away on a quest for more mischief in the kitchens.

"Peeves never stops, does he?" laughed Hannah Abott of Hufflepuff.

"Where's the fun without someone like him?" replied Seamus, from behind, with another question.

Breakfast was shortly followed by the sound of the bell, signaling dismissal. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gathered their bags, and headed to the school grounds. Their first class today was Care of Magical Creatures.

"I hope he doesn't continue with those bloody Oil-Headed Tremors," wept Ron in dislike. Clearly, they were disgusting animals that made Ron retch every time he set an eye on them.

"If Hagrid tells us to rub the oil off their heads again, I think I will be sick in a heartbeat," muttered Dean Thomas sympathetically.

The sky was grey, containing a smattering of dark clouds. Birds were chirping high on the branches, as the whistling wind caused the leaves to dance frequently.

"Gather o'er 'ere!" grunted Hagrid, addressing the Gryffindors and Slytherins. There was a murmur of worry going on between the bored Slytherins.

"Select one Oil-Headed Tremor, an' pair up with yer friend," directed Hagrid, brining over a huge barrel, "an' then work on removin' the oil…mind ye don' squeeze too hard."

Slowly and reluctantly, every pupil wore his or her dragon-hide gloves for precaution, and congregated around the big barrel. They stuck in their hands, one by one, and out came some hideous looking slimy creatures, with oil oozing out from their heads, staining the grassy floor with intense grease.

Harry could see Dean's face gradually turning pale, and his cheeks were puffed out, as in a preparatory position to throw up.

"If ya squeeze too hard, they'll squirt some grease in yer eyes…don' want anythin' like that now, would ya?" warned Hagrid, passing swiftly by all the pairs.

Malfoy was struggling to cut off a thick layer of oil that landed on his robes.

"Don' waste yer time cleaning yer robes, Malfoy," grunted Hagrid vehemently, "back ter work!"

The boy gave the half-giant a cold stare and smirk, and resumed the practice. Pansy Parkinson nearly jumped on Hagrid, criticizing the way he treated Draco. However, one alarming look from Hermione silenced her. She was actually thinking about putting her in detention as a consequence. But in the end, Pansy didn't do anything foolish.

"Phew…this thing stinks!" moaned Ron, as he picked up the awful scent emerging from the Oil-Headed Tremor's belly.

"I know," said Harry sentimentally, trying to move off the oil, "I guess we'll just have to deal with it."

"Ouch! I've gone blind!" hollered Blaise Zabini in agony. Apparently, she didn't pay attention to the part where Hagrid explained that she wasn't supposed to tighten her grip on the little creature.

"Whassa matter?" grunted Hagrid, stepping nearer to her. Quickly, he discerned some grease on her eyelashes, falling down steadily to the ground. The Oil-Headed Tremor fidgeted fleetingly, and then crawled away, searching for its nest.

"Blimey!" muttered Hagrid, looking horrorstruck. "Better get ya ter the Hospital Wing."

The whole class looked at the complaining girl, whining about Hagrid being an irresponsible teacher to have them learn about what she called despicable monsters.

"Be back in no time!" Hagrid informed Harry, whispering, and left the young youth to supervise the class.

Harry was a bit worried to run the class, for it wasn't his job; he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. No matter, he was ranked as a teacher, and knew perfectly well how to deal with students, carrying on the work.

"Well, Hagrid's going to be back in sometime," yelled Harry, hushing the loud voices, "for the meantime…just resume the oil removing."

"I'm not doing anything till the great big oaf is back," muttered the cold voice of Malfoy.

At once, Ron and Hermione glared angrily at him, and Harry was definitely exasperated. He made to knock the brains out of the thick, rude, unkind imbecile.

"Harry," whispered Hermione in an urgent tone, staring at his robes.

"Not now Hermione! I've got a lesson to teach!" he prattled, enraged. Malfoy was shooting him some what-are-you-going-to-do looks.

"Harry! Look!" added Ron, pointing his index finger at Harry's clothes.

When he turned around, Harry realized that something odd was happening. His sword, Anystal, was glowing, bright as the sun, vibrating immensely.

"What the…" began Malfoy, glancing at the pewter grey sky in horrid eyes.

Large scarlet figures were gathering around each other, approaching the great castle of Hogwarts. Instinctively, the students felt the tense mood, thus fleeing away, terrified. Harry, Ron, and Hermione put the Oil-Headed Tremors back in their barrel at top speed, and turned their curious eyes to the sky.

"What's that?" enquired Hermione anxiously.

"The sword glowed," said Harry thoughtfully. "It means there's some danger to be present!"

He grasped his sword firmly from the handle, attempting to do something useful. But the dark red figures were at a far distance. How could he possibly pierce the sword into their skin? The enormous figures were coming closer to the castle, and Harry had not idea what they were. For a fleeting moment, he remembered what Malfoy didn't do. He hadn't told Harry about his secret, and perhaps now Malfoy's fear was coming true.

"I don't believe it!" gasped Hermione, holding on to Ron's robes. "Heliopaths!"

"I thought you said they weren't real," he muttered.

"I saw a picture of them in 'Wild Beasts that Rule Our Lands', and thought it was a myth," chattered Hermione briskly, "but now they fly before my eyes!"

"I guess Luna Lovegood was right, then," mouthed Harry, slowly drawing out his sword. The panicking Slytherins retreated to the castle, and some of the Gryffindors remained shaking in their places.

As the Heliopaths became clearly vivid to the naked eye, Harry observed what he thought was fake. The creatures were made of flames of fire, and had horrible glowing yellow eyes. A tail stuck from the back of each of them, shooting fireballs from the tip. The Heliopaths were of course winged, each of their wings concealed beneath vast spikes on the edges. There were about twenty or so of them circling around West Tower and the Astronomy Tower. Several had shot balls of orange red flames, which demolished the top and rear end of the castle. The students that were inside had to be trapped, as Harry guessed.

For now, he considered that there was a limit to be for this sudden attack. He had the great sword of Anystal, and Ron had a famous Centaur's arrow. Lastly, Hermione had her good old wand. Could the combination of three brands of ordnance end the horrible fear?

Just as Harry was about to inform Ron and Hermione about this mere thought, he noticed that some Heliopaths backed away from the castle, while a big greenly lit wall of resistance protected the huge dwelling.

"Look," pointed out Hermione, her finger signaling towards the West Tower's direction. Twenty one men in long leather green cloaks, long yellow beards and or hairs of waist length, sliver hoods, root like feet were gliding out of a window.

"It's the Rangers!" said Ron excitedly, pulling Harry and Hermione behind him.

They all scurried to the west side of the castle, observing the Ranger's reaction. Suddenly, Dumbledore with the company of Professor McGonagall and the Potions Master, hurried along the grounds. The Headmaster muttered something incoherent under his nose, and instantaneously a beam of blinding white light shot out the tip of his wand. It spread into a circle, rather a very wide one, surrounding the castle. Vast vibrations shook the floor, and Harry nearly fell to the ground.

From the corner of his eye, Ron saw Hagrid coming back, with eyes as wild as a red horizon, and a mouth open like a cavernous hall. A storm was now gradually occurring, so strong and destructive it could've overmatched the power of a hurricane. Harry felt that it was useless carrying out Anystal in public, even though Hermione informed him about its greatly spectacular functions. Instead, he continued shooting the Rangers confused bewildered looks, as they were trying their best to repel the force of the Heliopaths.

"It's the Stromisus Charm!" bellowed Hermione, fighting the wind back. "N.E.W.T level!"

Harry and Ron both thanked her for the inconsequential comment and decided to venture into the castle. The white boundary, the origin of the storm, luckily left a gap between two sides, leaving the doors to the Entrance Hall clear.

The trio and several others galloped inwards, shrieking, walking deeper to reach the Great Hall.

Windows were about to shatter, and nothing but blinding white light was discerned behind them. Harry's sword was still glowing like a beacon. Ron was shivering in his place. Hermione continuously averted her eyes to corners, fearful that a Heliopath might suddenly penetrate into the hall.

"Calm down everyone!" shouted Harry helplessly. "Let them do their work in peace!"

Instantly, Hermione had an idea.

"_Sonorous!_" she muttered, her wand touching Harry's throat gently.

"HEY!" he yelled, and every uneasy eye turned to him, transfixed. "If you panic, it will only be worse! Let the staff and the Rangers do their duties! Now _shut up!_"

The word of courage barely mollified the students, which of course ignored Harry and his sudden rudeness.

"_Quietus!"_ said Hermione, and at once, Harry's voice went back to a normal tone.

"I'm going to see the Rangers," he declared quickly, "stay here and make sure no one gets hurt."

Ron and Hermione nodded as Harry left. Each step was hastier than its previous. He hopped up trick steps, and ran across the stairs. The people in portraits were anxious, too, and many of them have left their own portraits to visit others' in the dungeons.

At last, West Tower was visible from its interior in front of Harry's eyes. For some hasty seconds, he thought he saw a short woman with round glasses that hid huge eyes, covered with what seemed like a dozen shawls...Professor Sybill Trelawney. A large glass window was to Harry's right, and there were the Rangers. Each one of them had wands pointing at the Heliopaths. They had performed the most conspicuously intricate hexes and charms that Harry's ever saw. Now, Anystal was shaking hard in his robes, and he took it out.

A head was attracted by the sword's brightness. It was Chief Altazark.

"I could use a bit of help," he muttered emphatically, and in a heartbeat or two, one of his thickly built roots stretched out like hasty bonfire and reached for Anystal.

"Hey!" shouted Harry indignantly, but then he was stunned. Chief Altazark held the sword aloft, and the yellow light was waning; eventually it faded out. Momentarily, an incredible beam of sky-blue light shot out of the blade, and hit a Heliopath. It let out a big roar, and instantly plummeted to the ground, silent and motionless.

Another flaming creature came zooming in the air, as if seeking vengeance for its brother, and the old man repeated the move. With the aid of Anystal, Dumbledore's storm, and the Ranger's green repelling boundary, the Heliopaths eventually fell to the floor all together. Harry forced his way through the Rangers, and looked down the window. The flamed beasts were as still as rock, and Professor Dumbledore lowered his wand at last.

"Keep this safe, because it is of great use," Harry heard the grim voice of the Chief, as he handed him his sword back.

"What did you do?" Harry posed a question, inserting the hot blade back into his robes.

The Chief ignored him, and called the other Rangers behind him. Harry felt so exasperated for the constant ignorance and arrogance from everyone that surrounded him of elders. However, he was in some way relieved.

Shortly after that, Harry's legs found him the way outside, and he saw the staff examining the Heliopaths' condition, strolling across the grounds.

"Are they…dead?" questioned Harry, while approaching the Headmaster.

"Dead? Oh no, not dead. Not exactly," the old man replied confidently. "They are paralyzed, Harry, temporarily."

"What? You mean they're still alive? You mean they'll sit upright again shortly?" wept Harry in disbelief.

"I am afraid so," replied Dumbledore, leaving Harry behind. Then suddenly, after the old man attempted to march off, he ceased, halted and turned his head slowly to the youth.

"It was indeed wise of you to aid the Rangers by means of Anystal, Harry," he mentioned quietly.

Harry's eyes rolled around in amazement.

"How did you…" but Dumbledore was already gone into the castle, along with the rest of the teachers. Every now and then Harry's head heard loud snorting noises, and thought that the Heliopaths awakened to destruction.

As he entered, Harry noticed that the Great Hall was much calmer. The Slytherins were all curled up on their seats, still afraid and anxious. Ron and Hermione head perplexed looks at the Headmaster.

"What went on outside?" enquired Ron, as soon as Harry sat down.

"Chief Altazark used Anystal…Dumbledore knows about it, too…" he trailed off weakly.

"I would like you all to stay here in the Great Hall," announced Dumbledore emphatically, "there has been a horrible attack indeed at Hogwarts, thus we who have the authority to extinguish this fear shall resume our work until we determine the time when you are safe. No doubt, I believe this is another message from…"

His voice was cut off short with a loud growl from one of the Heliopaths.

"Teachers," he continued, unfinished with his last statement, "please follow me again."

Harry was itching to get up and know what the old Headmaster was up to. His last words were interrupted, and nobody heard what he intended to speak. However, deep down in his soul, Harry knew that this was from Voldemort. He was the one who was seeking glory and total control over the entire wizarding world.

As the old man accelerated in the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff house-tables, he glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. Slowly, he tilted his head, arched his aged back, and fixed his determined eyes on Harry's.

"I think that the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher ought to come with us in order to know the present events," he said calmly, and then joined the staff.

Out of the castle the crept, and the pewter grey sky was now crying a torrent of rain. The heavy downpour filled the whole wide space, and everyone was soaked with intensified amounts of water. The dreadful creatures were still lying without a single sound on the wet grassy floor. Their yellow eyes were still open, but were presumably out of focus. Each raindrop bounced off the spikes on their leather-like wings, producing a sharp splashing noise.

"Headmaster," called Snape, removing his wet greasy hair away form his white sullen worried eyes, "I suppose there is a fair reason behind the beasts' presence."

"Of course there is, Severus! You didn't think of it as joke now, did you?" growled Professor McGonagall sternly.

"Chill out, Minerva," instructed the old man, dragging his full-length sized robes behind him, "Lord Voldemort will inevitably be cheerful if a soul was lost now…some of us can even sense it in their own private dreams."

By that, he was surely indicating Harry.

"And yet," continued the Headmaster, "he'd be absolutely furious if his carefully conducted plans don't go the way he wants them to. Well, naturally, he might as well recruit a whole army to demolish a world like ours."

He was silenced for fleeting moments, watching the flames die down.

"But as long as those who remain friendly and loyal to us are on our side," he added, "and as long as our long know Boy Who Lived survives…my old friend Tom might not stand a chance."

Every head, except for Dumbledore's, shifted to look at Harry. He was standing there, in the heavy freezing rain, his vision impaired by the vast drops of water covering his glasses. From the inside of him, he was wondering why Dumbledore was so confident in talking in such a way that only seemed mysterious and riddle-like.

Some long moments bypassed now, and Harry thought about what just happened. If the Heliopaths did destroy the fortress, that could've cost the lives of many people, wouldn't it? Who knows? Perhaps the beast purposed to kidnap some innocent soul. But no, Voldemort's wildest dream was to ruin Harry's life just like his parents, in fact, exterminate it. After all, Harry was the reason behind the Dark Lord's downfall.

"Harry," came the clam voice of an old man, "I'd like you to follow me to my office, please."

Harry was dazed for a fleeting second, but then managed to walk away.

"But sir," muttered Harry quickly, almost rudely, "what about the Heliopaths?"

"Oh," said the Headmaster matter-of-factly, "we'll leave them to our friends, the Rangers. Chief Altazark and his company should force them into their original forms…they might be a bit more useful then."

Although his words were said sharply and clearly, Harry thought of their meaning as vague. Why would Dumbledore leave them loose in the grounds, free to their will, despite the fact that they were temporarily paralyzed? And exactly what did his words mean by their original forms? What did the Rangers have to do with this crisis? A flood of questions and enquires rushed through Harry's puzzled mind as he re-entered the Great Hall.

Each of the teachers shortly followed the Headmaster to the staff table, having marks of anxiety on their pale faces. Mr. Filch came by like thunder questioning Dumbledore about this uneasiness. His voice was trembling and shaky, as if a Dementor had just lowered its jaw to his mouth, his fingernails sinking deep into Mrs. Norris's fur.

"For the mean time," called Professor Dumbledore loudly, "you might as well resume you classes, but take extra care. The Rangers and the staff, including me, have got things merely under control. This matter here is currently calmed down, but not completely ended. Thus, I advise you to remain vigilant."

Though mystified by his speech, the students got up from their seats, abandoning the house-tables, gathering around the narrow aisles.

"What's he playing at?" shrieked Ron, watching flames released from a Heliopath's tail wave across a window. "What if they wake up? They'll chew us alive!"

"No, Ron," objected Hermione briskly, "I know he might be acting under normalcy, but he's probably got a plan."

"He's mental, he is," scoffed Ron, climbing up the marble staircase.

"I'll meet you guys after History of Magic," mouthed Harry speedily.

"Why? Where are you going?" enquired Hermione, her schoolbag siding off her shoulder.

"Dumbledore wants a word," said Harry through gritted teeth.

Afterwards, he found himself waiting in front of the familiar gargoyle statue. Surprisingly, the Headmaster himself was waiting for Harry.

"_Crabbhopper!_" said Dumbledore without a word of welcome for Harry.

They both walked onto the steps which instantly began levitating. The old man had been dead silent, not shooting Harry one little gaze.

They stepped into the luxurious circular room, lined with many neat shelves, covered with a numerous amount of portraits of old Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts, and then proceeded further into an inner office.

"Tea?" asked Dumbledore politely, as he sat down on the comfortable chair.

"No, thanks," declined Harry, desperate to end the meeting as soon as possible.

"Very well," responded the Headmaster, pouring himself some hot steaming tea.

Silence bypasses, as Dumbledore added some sugar by magic.

"It is rather strange, isn't it?" he asked, magically stirring the tea to help vanish the sugar particles. "How the remarkably efficient sword came to your possession?"

"You mean Anystal?" questioned Harry, confused, scratching his scar.

"Yes," replied Dumbledore, taking a sip of his tea, "have you never wondered?"

Harry turned speechless momentarily, having no clue whatsoever how the Headmaster knew about the blade.

"Professor Lupin gave it to me last summer," quacked Harry earnestly, irritated by Phineas Nigellus's snoring.

"Indeed," whispered the old man, "but it was I who originally sent it to you."

"What?" Harry yelled involuntarily.

"It was a gift, along with your newly manufactured broomstick," explained Dumbledore thoroughly, cooling down his tea.

"But why was it you? I thought the sword belonged to Professor Lupin," declined Harry in argument.

"Dear old Remus and I have met over during the summer," mentioned the old man, raising his half-moon spectacles, "we've seen where this path will lead to…and we decided that it was prudent for you to yet have more protection than anybody magical can provide."

"But didn't you say you cared too much about me last year? Didn't you say it was an old man's mistake?" Harry fired two other indignant questions in a perplexed matter.

"You know, Harry," continued Dumbledore in a quieter voice, "there are some things in this life that could seem understandable, yet ironically, not. Even the eldest and wisest of men could sometimes fail to get the point.

"I do not deny that I cared about you more than I needed. Furthermore, I wouldn't just ignore you, and simply surrender you to my old pupil Tom, would I?"

"No," said Harry, scarcely understanding.

"Well, we gathered here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on honestly, "and re-united with Sybill Trelawney. She has shown us what we feared of dreadful predictions…"

"Let me guess…my death? Presumably? She always does that!"

The Headmaster gave him a small reluctant grin, and then proceeded with the talk.

"She has informed us of the worst through her crystal orb," explained Dumbledore delightedly, "and I do have faith in her as much I trust Severus Snape. Meanwhile, I knew that I couldn't do anything but provide all necessary precautions. So I decided that it was time to pass an heirloom from Hogwarts."

"Anystal?"

"Precisely," answered Dumbledore, nodding his head. "Now, I see that you have got hold of it and discovered its functions, although you did only with a few of them."

Instantly, Harry recalled the only true moment where he actually used the sword for his benefit. It was when the mysterious shadow materialized in the gloomy kitchens of Hogwarts. Accordingly to Chief Altazark, Dumbledore must've inevitably seen it coming. Nonetheless, he decided not to bring up the subject.

"And if you wonder why you were sent a spectacular Firebolt X6," continued the old man, rubbing his wrinkled chin, "perhaps you'll find out later this year."

"Planned for it already, haven't you?" mouthed Harry, exasperated. "You've seen it all along, Professor, and nevertheless, you never told me!"

The Headmaster was silent as the grave, and looked Harry directly in the eye.

"Do you mind if I ask who shared this bit of information with you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore in a tranquil matter of way.

"It doesn't matter," wailed Harry, rubbing one foot against the other, "either way, you knew it…all along…you could've prevented any of those foul…"

"Let's say that it is the way an old man chose things to happen," hissed Dumbledore earnestly.

"Well I'm sick and tired of that old man's nonsense!"

Harry glared at him, wondering if Voldemort was happy this instant. For some seconds, Harry looked at the sword that was once the property of Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Clearly, he recalled the day where he utilized it to slay the deadly Basilisk in his second year.

"Now," spoke the Headmaster suddenly, "we've received a couple of words from the Order, and they said they've tracked down several Death Eaters fleeing across Britain. More to that, they've actually sensed queer movements nearby Hogwarts. Shortly after the incident, Mundungus Fletcher, who inherited the power of fortune-telling from his great great great grandfather, pointed out something. Lord Voldemort had sent the Heliopaths from…"

"Dark Valley, I know," interrupted Harry, "I suppose you and Mundungus are related? After all, you're not the only one who could See beyond according to the old fraud."

"Perhaps you're correct Harry," responded the old man, merely justifying the fact.

"So what are they doing here anyway?" enquired Harry curiously.

"Glad you've come back to that, Harry," commented Dumbledore, drinking the last few drops of his tea, "we believe that they carry a curse from Dark Valley, the temporary lair of old Tom…one which would extinguish every tranquil quality, love, friendship…one which could demolish the truth…the main point is that we are so lucky that Severus had told me about it beforehand."

"Snape?"

"_Professor_ Snape," chattered the old man forcefully, "he only just informed us yesterday and it was earlier than the Order's response."

By that, Harry was reassured that the Potions Master had taken Malfoy's word for truth, thus reporting it to the Headmaster. It might've been his greatest ambition to prove himself worthy of being a member of the staff.

"Had it not been for him, things would have been eerie and chaotic," said Dumbledore, cleaning the teacup with a simple spell from his wand.

"And what about the Rangers?" questioned Harry vehemently. "Don't they deserve some of the praise and gratitude?"

"I don't deny that they've been efficient in playing their role," explained Dumbledore solemnly, "but we couldn't have acted in the right time if it hadn't been for Severus in the first place."

"But it wouldn't change the state of things," objected Harry matter-of-factly, "you foresaw it, didn't you?"

"Harry," sighed the wearied old man, "I feel that I've divulged the vital facts oHoh of current issues for you, now. I really should be going now…busy day at the Ministry."

Harry looked at him as if he was eyeing vermin.

"And what about the Heliopaths? What did you mean 'their original forms' ?"

"I do understand how you feel, Harry," murmured Professor Dumbledore sentimentally, "but I'm afraid this is not the time to discuss such things."

"Fine," moaned Harry, standing up, heading to the door.

He stormed his way out of the Headmaster's office, after the old man shot him one last look of pathos. Not only did Dumbledore admit that he's been seeing things before they came to life, but he also cut off the conversation. Presumably, he was a busy man, but he had all the time in the world to be truthful. His decision was to leave Harry lost in a wider arc of predictions and thoughts. Intense anger arose in Harry's eyes, and he felt like fresh steam. What was the Heliopaths' original form?


	40. Indignation at its Zenith

40 (Indignation at its Zenith)

"But why was it you? I thought the sword belonged to Professor Lupin," declined Harry in argument.

"Dear old Remus and I have met over during the summer," mentioned the old man, raising his half-moon spectacles, "we've seen where this path will lead to…and we decided that it was prudent for you to yet have more protection than anybody magical can provide."

"But didn't you say you cared too much about me last year? Didn't you say it was an old man's mistake?" Harry fired two other indignant questions in a perplexed matter.

"You know, Harry," continued Dumbledore in a quieter voice, "there are some things in this life that could seem understandable, yet ironically, not. Even the eldest and wisest of men could sometimes fail to get the point.

"I do not deny that I cared about you more than I needed. Furthermore, I wouldn't just ignore you, and simply surrender you to my old pupil Tom, would I?"

"No," said Harry, scarcely understanding.

"Well, we gathered here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore went on honestly, "and re-united with Sybill Trelawney. She has shown us what we feared of dreadful predictions…"

"Let me guess…my death? Presumably? She always does that!"

The Headmaster gave him a small reluctant grin, and then proceeded with the talk.

"She has informed us of the worst through her crystal orb," explained Dumbledore delightedly, "and I do have faith in her as much I trust Severus Snape. Meanwhile, I knew that I couldn't do anything but provide all necessary precautions. So I decided that it was time to pass an heirloom from Hogwarts."

"Anystal?"

"Precisely," answered Dumbledore, nodding his head. "Now, I see that you have got hold of it and discovered its functions, although you did only with a few of them."

Instantly, Harry recalled the only true moment where he actually used the sword for his benefit. It was when the mysterious shadow materialized in the gloomy kitchens of Hogwarts. Accordingly to Chief Altazark, Dumbledore must've inevitably seen it coming. Nonetheless, he decided not to bring up the subject.

"And if you wonder why you were sent a spectacular Firebolt X6," continued the old man, rubbing his wrinkled chin, "perhaps you'll find out later this year."

"Planned for it already, haven't you?" mouthed Harry, exasperated. "You've seen it all along, Professor, and nevertheless, you never told me!"

The Headmaster was silent as the grave, and looked Harry directly in the eye.

"Do you mind if I ask who shared this bit of information with you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore in a tranquil matter of way.

"It doesn't matter," wailed Harry, rubbing one foot against the other, "either way, you knew it…all along…you could've prevented any of those foul…"

"Let's say that it is the way an old man chose things to happen," hissed Dumbledore earnestly.

"Well I'm sick and tired of that old man's nonsense!"

Harry glared at him, wondering if Voldemort was happy this instant. For some seconds, Harry looked at the sword that was once the property of Godric Gryffindor, one of the founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Clearly, he recalled the day where he utilized it to slay the deadly Basilisk in his second year.

"Now," spoke the Headmaster suddenly, "we've received a couple of words from the Order, and they said they've tracked down several Death Eaters fleeing across Britain. More to that, they've actually sensed queer movements nearby Hogwarts. Shortly after the incident, Mundungus Fletcher, who inherited the power of fortune-telling from his great great great grandfather, pointed out something. Lord Voldemort had sent the Heliopaths from…"

"Dark Valley, I know," interrupted Harry, "I suppose you and Mundungus are related? After all, you're not the only one who could See beyond according to the old fraud."

"Perhaps you're correct Harry," responded the old man, merely justifying the fact.

"So what are they doing here anyway?" enquired Harry curiously.

"Glad you've come back to that, Harry," commented Dumbledore, drinking the last few drops of his tea, "we believe that they carry a curse from Dark Valley, the temporary lair of old Tom…one which would extinguish every tranquil quality, love, friendship…one which could demolish the truth…the main point is that we are so lucky that Severus had told me about it beforehand."

"Snape?"

"_Professor_ Snape," chattered the old man forcefully, "he only just informed us yesterday and it was earlier than the Order's response."

By that, Harry was reassured that the Potions Master had taken Malfoy's word for truth, thus reporting it to the Headmaster. It might've been his greatest ambition to prove himself worthy of being a member of the staff.

"Had it not been for him, things would have been eerie and chaotic," said Dumbledore, cleaning the teacup with a simple spell from his wand.

"And what about the Rangers?" questioned Harry vehemently. "Don't they deserve some of the praise and gratitude?"

"I don't deny that they've been efficient in playing their role," explained Dumbledore solemnly, "but we couldn't have acted in the right time if it hadn't been for Severus in the first place."

"But it wouldn't change the state of things," objected Harry matter-of-factly, "you foresaw it, didn't you?"

"Harry," sighed the wearied old man, "I feel that I've divulged the vital facts oHoh of current issues for you, now. I really should be going now…busy day at the Ministry."

Harry looked at him as if he was eyeing vermin.

"And what about the Heliopaths? What did you mean 'their original forms' ?"

"I do understand how you feel, Harry," murmured Professor Dumbledore sentimentally, "but I'm afraid this is not the time to discuss such things."

"Fine," moaned Harry, standing up, heading to the door.

He stormed his way out of the Headmaster's office, after the old man shot him one last look of pathos. Not only did Dumbledore admit that he's been seeing things before they came to life, but he also cut off the conversation. Presumably, he was a busy man, but he had all the time in the world to be truthful. His decision was to leave Harry lost in a wider arc of predictions and thoughts. Intense anger arose in Harry's eyes, and he felt like fresh steam. What was the Heliopaths' original form?

Exasperated as he was, Harry roamed along the corridors, crept down several staircases, until at last, the door to the Great Hall stood before him. He was hoping to see Ron and Hermione waiting for him there, but of course, he remembered that Dumbledore had already dismissed them to their classes.

Wearily, Harry scooted out of the deserted Great Hall, and headed to the History of Magic classroom. While he was walking, he thought of how unbearable it was to spend the next twenty minutes listening to the grim voice of a ghost, Professor Binns. Warm sweat came rushing down the bridge of his nose. His untidy hair was sticking out in every edge, scruffy, seldom moving as he increased his pace.

As an afterthought, Harry decided to skive off History of Magic, for it only had nineteen more remaining minutes until the bell rang again. He wanted to write once more to the Order.

"Why aren't you in class, boy?" came a voice behind him, emerging from a portrait. When Harry turned around, it was seemingly a professional artist, wearing a three cornered hat with three feathers at the top center, and held a long paintbrush in his hand.

"Shut up," muttered Harry, ignoring the man.

He was approaching the Owlery, careful not to step on some owl droppings near the door that accumulated over time.

Hastily, Harry grabbed the doorknob and pulled it down, stepping into the threshold of the circular room. The whole place was filled with a lot of shelves, occupied by many breeds of owls. The floor was wet and repulsive, due to the great amount of owl droppings and feathers that lay on the ground.

Of course, Hedwig hadn't been there because she didn't return from her journey yet. Harry had previously sent her to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place seeking advice. Apparently, it took her longer time than he expected.

Over by the corner, he eyed a familiar tawny owl that kept moving recklessly, fidgeting anxiously, knocking down some neighbours.

Quickly, Harry opened his bag, and took out a quill, a bottle of ink, and one roll of parchment. He cleaned one part of the room with a deft wave from his wand, and then settled down on his knees, trying to think about what to write.

_Dear Professor Lupin and Mad-Eye,_

_You haven't replied to my last letter as fast as I expected. Nevertheless, Malfoy's secret had been discovered at last. This morning, half way through our first lesson, Care of Magical Creatures,_ _we were attacked by Heliopaths. Dumbledore, the staff, and the Rangers quickly acted, and were lucky that the castle wasn't brought down. The Rangers did something queer that rather looked like a green boundary protecting West Tower…Dumbledore, accordingly to Hermione, did a fair demonstration of the Stromisus Charm. I was so vexed myself that I had to see what was really going on in the…_

But instantly, his quill stopped scratching against the rough surfaced parchment, as he heard an annoying hooting noise come from the window above. When Harry put his quill down, he looked up and saw a white wintry bird wing through the windowsill, landing on Harry's arm.

"Why have you been delayed so long?" he asked, relieved that Hedwig finally returned home. Speedily, he untied the parcel tied around her leg, and hastily opened it. Harry took out the letter within.

_Harry-_

_By the time you receive this letter, the Heliopaths would probably already have attacked Hogwarts. Please Harry, do not go risk your own life…they cab be very dangerous around youngsters that haven't yet accomplished profound knowledge about magical beasts. Event though you got hold of old Anystal, it is wise to leave it to the Rangers and Professor Dumbledore. Don't venture into their plans…_

_Yours truly,_

_Remus Lupin_

Harry's eyes flashed twice, as though he hadn't realized what was written. Now, even Professor Lupin, who happened to be Harry's favorite teacher, began to grow anxious. Why was he so afraid? Hasn't Harry gone through adventures that could've cost him his neck? Isn't he capable of coping with reality yet? What did he have to do to show them that he got used to everything? Deep inside his veins, Harry felt that he was truly being treated like a six year old.

Now, there was no point in resuming writing his letter. Therefore, Harry seized his wand, muttered '_Deletrius!_', and the letters simply vanished. The roll of parchment was destined to not be wasted, for it could've been precious at other times. Harry shot the owls a depressed look, imagining what their lives were actually like. Indeed, they were the most reliable and faithful birds to a wizard, and did all kinds of favours by delivering messages and letter to every dwelling. However, those birds knew nothing of how Harry truly felt. After all, a human's emotions could be far more intense and intricate than those of a bird's.

Harry resisted the unbearable melancholy within his heart, and picked up his schoolbag. Noticing his watch, Harry knew that the bell was due to ring at any second now. He slowly stuffed Professor Lupin's response into his bag, ignoring how it was carelessly crumpled.

For a minute before Harry's legs lifted him up, he thought he heard a familiar squelching sound coming from the door. As he got up on his feet, he faced a rarely seen person around the Owlery enter.

"Malfoy?"

Oddly, Draco Malfoy, who's been acting rather mysteriously for the past few days, entered the Owlery, a rolled pieced of parchment held tightly between his pale fingers. He had looks of arrogance in his ungrateful little eyes, and a smirk showed on his curling lips.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked in a cold voice, freezing in his place.

"Well that's none of you business, is it?" replied Harry scathingly.

"Don't talk to me like that you overconfident little shrimp!" hollered Malfoy in rage.

Hastily, Harry stuck his hand into his robes, and out came his wand, brandishing across Malfoy's face. It was raised right to the level of the blonde boy's eyes.

"Tell me, have you ever been Stunned, Malfoy?" questioned Harry, a tone of sarcasm rising in his voice.

"Ah," murmured Malfoy, grinning wickedly, "thought of attacking me, did you now, Potter? Go ahead, I double dare you."

Harry was silenced for a moment, to be involved in what he called a mini-dilemma. Should he Stun the boy, he knew that the consequence would be most severe. And should he not, he would make a coward of no nerve out of himself. As a final wise decision, Harry lowered his wand, but still shooting Malfoy hot red looks of anger and despise.

"Just as I suspected," snorted Malfoy, "chicken."

A wave of exasperation bypassed.

"Beat it, before I knock the brains out of your thick head," said Harry, putting down his bag, and taking position to fight.

Immediately, Malfoy, sly as a fox, lifted the side of his robes, pulling out his own wand. He was pointing directly at Harry's chest, who stood transfixed at the sight in front of him, preparing himself for a small or big dosage of pain.

"Vulnerable, aren't you? Weasel and the mudblood aren't here for protection, are they, Potter? Couldn't do a single thing without them, could you?"

"Perhaps not," replied Harry confidently, "but I bet your father would've been proud of you this very instant. And you mother….oh well, you know, that look on her face, she'll be grinning like a sick, pale, yellow ferret…"

"Don't you dare talk about my parents like that!"

"Put it down Malfoy!" came a rough voice simultaneously. The angry boy felt a cold tip touch his bare neck that was only obscured by a smattering of his blonde-white hair.

"Ron," hissed Harry under his breath.

"Allright Harry?" it was Hermione, grinning at him fervently and at the same time, frowning at Malfoy.

"Saved by the bell," gossiped Malfoy, angrily, storming out of the Owlery at top speed.

Out of the smelly pungent room, the three marched.

"Been giving you a hard time?" enquired Ron, biting into a delicious but sour green apple.

"Definitely not," responded Harry, approaching the Charms classroom, staring at Terry Boot chattering with a couple of younger third year friends.

"What has he been doing?" asked Hermione curiously, already taking out four books for Charms.

"Dunno," replied Harry vaguely, "writing to his lonely mother, I suppose."

Ron let out a laugh, nearly choking on a jagged chunk of apple.

"I felt weak though," admitted Harry.

"What?" questioned Hermione softly, as they entered through the Charms classroom's threshold.

"I don't why…exactly," said Harry, uncertainly, "but I know that I felt strength-less for a moment or two."

"But you could've fought that nasty old twitching brat," said Ron, throwing the last remnants of his apple into the bin.

"Yeah, I know," continued Harry, "that's what makes it queer. I was raising my wand at him for a minute, but then, lowered it."

"You're being noble," giggled Hermione.

Now, who had said this before to Harry? Oh, yes, it was Phineas Nigellus, Sirius's uncle and once headmaster of the school.

Harry merely grinned, and the three of them found a table at the left front row.

Professor Flitwick spent the lesson revising five of the most complex yet effective charms the students had practised ever since the beginning of the year. Each charm required an utterly different skill and amount of concentration or focus. Therefore, tiny Professor Filius Flitwick found that it was sensible to have them refresh their minds two months before their pre-N.E.W.Ts; the time flew by as if adjusted to work on triple speed.

"All he squeaks about these days are those bloody pre-N.E.W.T tests," complained Dean Thomas, as he paired with Seamus to perform the long learnt solid division charm, "my ears stop hearing automatically whenever he mentions them."

"Me too, mate," agreed Seamus sympathetically.

The majority of students, with the spontaneous exception of Hermione, of course, had forgotten the basics of the charms they have studied. Thus, Professor Flitwick had them copy off the blackboard the ways in which each charm was specifically performed. And that included proper wand movement, the proper incantation, and the intricate amount of imagination or concentration.

The class grew duller ad the hands on the clock went further clockwise, and Harry's fingers virtually grew numb. However, one nudge in the ribs from Hermione was enough to get him going on again.

Finally, the class was over, and the door was magically and obligingly opened by the dwarf teacher, dismissing the students.

"Mind you study well for your pre-N.E.W.Ts; there are only two short months before they start," quacked Professor Flitwick enthusiastically, as he jumped off the twelve books that lay under his small feet.

"More like ages," declared Ron sarcastically.

"He's right, you know," acknowledged Hermione proudly, "I should've begun revising weeks and weeks ago."

"Give it a rest, Hermione," muttered Harry, stepping downstairs, "or you might suddenly snap in half."

She gave him one don't-joke-about-things-like-these glare, and entered the Potions classroom.

Snape had used the whole Double Potions period taunting Neville, who had failed to brew a simple Gloomy Bubble Potion. He had his point, though. That particular mixture of ingredients was way beyond his forgetful brain's knowledge, fort the potions was ranked as N.E.W.T level.

"It's not his fault," scoffed Ron hotly, "we don't take it till next year!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley," said Snape coolly, his lips forming the imminent unpleasant grin.

Ron frowned at the Potions Master, and resumed mixing ingredients to repeat his trial.

"I suppose by now I should think of your minds as those who are a year ahead of you, as there is no much difference," muttered Snape irritably, strolling along the aisles, "you'll have to write specified paragraphs about the properties of the Gloomy Bubble Potion, explaining what causes might lead to failure. That's to be no less than three rolls of parchment, and to be handed in tomorrow."

Harry cleaned his cauldron with a swift wave from his wand, until it was perfectly spotless. Then, he returned it to the back shelf. His bubble, however, had exploded into smithereens because of some mistake he made. Of course, Snape was most delighted to see a lapse and give Harry a big fat zero for the day's work. Ron, on the other hand, didn't manage to finish his potion-brewing for the third time, so no bubble emerged. He lost his house another five points for that. Hermione, who knew splendidly well how to brew a Gloomy Bubble Potion, had succeeded in the end. She bewitched her bubbled into reduced fist size, and then carefully positioned it in a jar.

"Satisfactory," lisped Snape, curling his lip, as he noticed some minuscule pale-white spots on top of the surface, "you can leave it on the shelf over there, and if you accidentally drop the jar, nothing will make ma nay happier to take off another few points."

Obediently, Hermione moved across the aisle, watching from the edge of her eye as Snape smirked at her.

"The rotten miserable old nut," bellowed Ron in disapproval, "how could you not say something to that dingbat? Huh?"

"I hold me temper, Ron, or else, you know what trouble can be awaiting me," declared Hermione confidently. Ron went on mimicking her.

"Better not stick you tongue out on him," advised Harry, merely giggling.

To the three's relief, the bell at last rang, its sound traveling all around the castle. Quickly, they cleaned up their working areas, picked up their bags and slightly dirty wands, and found their way out of the dusky room.

"Why can't he have postponed the homework till later on in the week?" whimpered Ron in depression. "We've got tons of parchments of homework of subjects…"

Harry and Hermione detected the uneasy frightful tone in his sarcastic voice, but found on suitable way to provide some soothing comfort. Ron would have to just deal with it, for he was getting older and more responsible for his magical future.

"Did you hear from Dumbledore, Harry?" queried Neville, as he sat down on a wet seat, helping himself to some lamb chops.

"About what?"

"Those Heliopaths," explained Neville, nibbling into the toothsome food, "we saw you leave the Great Hall with him."

"Yeah," muttered Harry reluctantly, remembering the mood in the Headmaster's office, "yeah…wet talked."

"Well?" demanded an excited Seamus, drinking some sweet pumpkin juice.

"He just told me to not worry," said Harry, "he also mentioned hat the Rangers were going to deal with the Heliopaths."

"Those Rangers had better watch out," came a dreamlike voice, "the Heliopaths may be weak at the present time, but they surely are vicious."

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione ceased feasting, turning around their necks, it was Luna Lovegood, a fifth year of Ravenclaw, who most people thought of as being weird.

"Hello Luna," greeted Hermione sweetly.

"Hello," she responded hastily, averting her eyes, shifting to Harry's.

"I think we've seen enough to conclude how vicious they are, Luna," spoke Harry, scratching his forehead.

"You've seen nothing," protested Luna vehemently, "wait till you look at their original forms…"

At that, she came to silence, afraid to speak some more. Shortly after that, carrying her plate of grilled chicken, brown rice, and mashed potatoes, she skedaddled away to chat with Ginny.

"How does she know?" asked Ron, bewildered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" pointed out Hermione, rolling up her sleeves. "Her father is _The Quibbler's _editor. Inevitably, her father would've had some articles about those beasts thrown into the paper."

"Yeah, but how does she know they've got original forms?" repeated Ron, puzzled.

"I've told you already," said Hermione, "she reads all the information out of that newspaper."

Harry stared at Luna, noticing that she shot him an anxious look every now and then.

"But…" began Harry uncertainly, "what if not all Heliopaths have original forms? I mean…these ones here could be special…or unique to have this trait."

"They're all of the same species, Harry," acknowledged Hermione.

Suddenly, the enormous shade of a Heliopath that happened to be lying just outside the Great Hall was reduced in size. No more flames emerged from the still tails. Also, no spikes could've been seen on the wings. It all just vanished.

"What now?" asked Ron curiously.

In brief moments, Professor Dumbledore arose from his seat at the staff table, and marched forward. He left his fellow teachers behind for supervision of pupils, having complete faith in each and every one of them. Harry saw a tense mood surrounding Professor McGonagall, who constantly kept looking over the many heads of students and swallowing lumps in her uneasy taut throat.

Snape was shooting everyone his unforgettable glare, his face turning whiter and whiter. Professor Flitwick, the tiny little Charms instructor, was in deep conversation with Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department.

"They're taking their original forms…the Heliopaths," mumbled Ginny, feeling so excited.

"Why are you so over the moon about it?" enquired Ron scathingly. "Those ruddy creatures could've burnt the castle down!"

Ginny paid no more attention, but instead, kept on observing the loud voices coming from outside.

There was a very conspicuous changed in the surrounding environment, for some sunlight rays stroke through the Great Hall's windows. Somehow, that raised the mere feeling of optimism in Harry's heart, knowing that a dreadful fear has gone…or did it really?

The lunch hour was over, and the afternoon classes were about to start. Only Harry was too preoccupied to leave the Great Hall. Through one of the windows located at the rear west end of the dwelling, he was starting to see some queer figures move around….more likely staggering. They weren't so vivid, and Harry's glasses didn't magnify the image so well. Whatever they were, Harry thought of them being drunk, for they were rocking left and right frequently against the floor.

"Harry," came Hermione's urging voice, "we've got Transfiguration."

However, his mind was drawn away to those figures. All he could've seen was a blur of red, and spikes sticking out from heads.

"Wait," he murmured, as he pulled his hand away from Ron's grip, "look."

Ron and Hermione's eyes were brought to the scene that Harry indicated. Inevitably, they were intrigued, but thought that venturing outside again to meet those beasts was far too hazardous.

"Never mind them now, Harry," purred Hermione, dragging his sleeve backwards. Yet, he resisted moving away. What he saw was just so tempting.

"No," Harry protested impatiently, "I need to see them up-close."

There was an unmistakable look of anxiety and a depressed frown on Ron's face, and he tried once more again to pull Harry back. Nonetheless, Harry's legs were already pacing on the ground, eager o discover the mystery behind the window.

He was getting closer to the rear end of the Hall, and was beginning to observe how strange the images he saw from afar were. Cautiously, he approached with all means of vigilance. The window was less than a foot from him, and behind it danced the weird creatures. Through the glass window he peered, and noticed an intriguing creature indeed. It was covering its head with a red hood, and the body with a bloody, scarlet cloak. No face was yet to be discerned, for the hood made it look shadowy. Two curly horns protruded from the head, like those of mountain goats. It was noticeable that they had a hunch back; they never stood upright. This might have disquieted Harry, for he's never witnesses such phenomenon. But what attracted his attention further was a glowing waxing light that kept shimmering from underneath. It had an orange hue, which blended perfectly wit rose red. The flames sent off sparks flying in the thin air, lading against the surface of the window. Harry felt his heart quicken its beats, his mind frozen on that particular scene, his feet adjoined to the floor. Sweat began to emerge from the pores on his skin, and his hair was wile and matted. For a moment, he thought he'd seen an eye watching him from underneath the hood. To reassure himself, Harry looked more closely, his nose sending sweat down the glass window. Then, a grim look was what he observed. There was only one eye visible to Harry, and it shot him a very threatening glare…a look that symbolized a warning…an alarming of some kind…

"Potter!"

A sudden irritating cold voice broke into Harry's forces, and he turned around to see immense blackness crawl nearer.

"Why aren't you traveling the way to your class, Potter?" asked the cruel cool voice of Snape.

In reality, Harry didn't know exactly what to say. He was afraid that if he spilled it out, the Potions Master would eventually be reading other signs.

"Did you perhaps not hear me?" he repeated indignantly.

"I…I," he mumbled, as he saw Ron and Hermione watching him nervously from behind Snape, "well…I thought I saw something that interested me…"

Without realizing it, Harry accidentally bumped his shoulder against Snape's, which only lit the internal fire. Now was the prefect moment for him to dock some points from Gryffindor. However, luckily, he was interrupted by Mr. Filch, who came asking about Mrs. Norris's whereabouts.

Harry had waked away swiftly, disliking the idea of argument with Snape. For so long, Harry had the feeling that Snape would somehow urge him to drink a smattering of Veritaserum, forcing him to speak the ultimate truth. For a fleeting second, he paused, and then quickly turned his back. His eyes squinted as his vision shifted to the same rear end window, but nothing was out there anymore. There was no beam of red, orange light, nor a glimpse of two horns. Could it have been an illusion? But no, it seemed so solid and real. It had to be…

"Why do you always hove to look?" questioned Ron, as though truly concerned.

"Now Snape shall be even more suspicious of you, Harry," philosophized Hermione, frowning.

"It caught my attention…what else could I have done?" he murmured in an innocent tone of voice.

Neither of his friends spoke, and they continued their jou8rney to Professor McGonagall's' classroom. Harry's mind was crammed with thoughts and wonders about what he saw earlier. Nothing about it seemed evident, or morel likely, pertaining to the most jabbering subject that haunted Harry, Ron, and Hermione's disturbed minds… the Wolf of the Eighth Floor.

Virtually, the major portion of the lesson urged the students to pay their undivided attention to Professor McGonagall's demonstration. For the meantime, she was displaying how to properly transfigure wooden crates into Flobberworms. Simultaneously, Harry stopped recording notes on his roll of parchment, noticing how rarely he wrote, anyway. It took what looked like an age before McGonagall finally quit the demonstration, and turned it to the students. One by one, they all stood in a fairly straight queue, awaiting their turn. Harry was in the back of the line, peering over the taller heads of some Ravenclaws. Hannah Abott had accidentally transfigured he crate into a prankish little kitten. Momentarily, Professor McGonagall shot her a satisfactory look, and retrieved the little kitten to a comfortable cage located on top of a tarnished sliver cabinet.

While helplessly trying to move forward, for the students were almost stuck together, Harry couldn't help thinking about loads of stuff that stood before him. There was total, vast chaos in his troubled head. Firstly, he was guessing what the Heliopaths really looked like in their original forms. After that, another memory came back to his head. Actually, it wasn't a memory at all, rather something he's been told about the future. February was too soon to arrive, and the fourteenth of it was even sooner, not much farther. Due to his recent admirable relationship with Hermione, Harry considered what he would buy her on Valentine's Day over and over again. And who knows? Perhaps something else might come. And to think, something indeed was yet to come up on the exact same day. Harry, Ron, and Hermione virtually vowed to pay a little visit to Winky at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries…

"Mr. Weasley, could you get on with it?"

Harry's thoughts were shattered like debris when the Transfiguration teacher's stern, scolding voice was sounded. Apparently, Ron, who scarcely understood a word that came out of the old lady's mouth, was confused. Some detail about the wand motion and angle was what he had forgotten. But that was fleeting. Instantly, he recalled the information, and successfully Transfigured the crate into a Flobberworm. It didn't wiggle like Hermione's, though. Yet, he did what he was asked.

Again, the flood of worries floated back to Harry, much like a torrent of heavy river-water. One major issue that constantly heightened his anxiety was that Wolf the shadow warned him of. Harry merely knew what the so-called horrid beast looked like. True, he was told of his powers, draining and sharp. However, seeing them practically was different from talking them out. According to the shadow, the Wolf of the Eighth Floor lay still in a long deserted room in this very castle. More to that, the creature wouldn't awake until the fifth month of the year died, and the sixth was born. Harry wondered how vicious that Wolf would be, and had a flashback that very microsecond. Previously, when he and Hermione ventured into the unlit kitchens of Hogwarts, the shadow had acknowledged some things, vital facts, about the ferocious Wolf. It was said that the Wolf's howls would lose someone their soul, or petrify them. The wise shadow had also explained that there was more to just that. As he disclosed, the Wolf's evil and cruelty were far beyond any Dark wizard's.

As Harry kept meditating, he came back to the reason behind all of this. Voldemort. Not once in his so far six years at Hogwarts had he stopped planning for Harry's death. It had worked a few times when Harry was deceived by left over remnants of Voldemort's past…by fake visions or something similar…by an impostor who had protected him until luring Harry to the Triwizard Cup, which happened to be a portkey to Voldemort. All the anguish and suffering Voldemort had caused over the years was for one main purpose…the knowledge of how to destroy Harry Potter.

Halfway through the period, Harry's turn eventually arrived, and he had to repeat his trial several times; his wand slipped out of his grip every time he raised it up. Of course, that delayed Professor McGonagall's plans for the lessons, and she glared at him as though he deliberately dropped his wand.

"All Flobberworms are to be disposed off in the large wooden barrel over there," she directed her students, pointing at the box, "clean up any slime left behind the creatures."

To Ron's disgust, he had to mop some slime that was left behind his Flobberworm. In some way, it acted similarly to and Oil-Headed Tremor, releasing internal body waste. arrto chat as Harr as ads

Hermione, luckily, had no slime under her desk, and neither did Harry. They had to shove off some dead skin that fell off their Flobberworms' bodies, though.

Just as they began to read a short chapter about Transfiguring plants as a prelude to the next lesson, Harry's eyes rolled, and an incredible thought came to his mind. Professor McGonagall happened to be the Transfiguration teacher for almost forty years at Hogwarts, and she must've studied intensive courses after her graduation, which had took place ages and ages back from now. What if she told him the properties of Heliopaths and their original forms? That way, he could easily extinguish the. But of course, and obstacle stood in his path…perhaps more than one. Dumbledore and the Noble Rangers of the South have always warned Harry to not interfere in their business, and remain on the safe side. Yet, he couldn't help it. Simply, Harry couldn't just wait days and nights, observing brutal, unexpected attacks on the huge fortress, and possibly, somewhere near. He knew that he had no power against elders' words, but just out of dire curiosity, he decided to ask.

Slowly, he snapped the textbook shut, and arose from his seat. Ron and Hermione, who sat on either side of him, momentarily ceased to read, glancing at him. His robes brushed against Ron's head as he passed by the narrow space between their table and the one behind them, which was occupied by Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst.

The old woman's wrinkled eyes moved rapidly as Harry approached her desk.

"Yes?" she asked amicably.

"Professor," he whispered softly, "I…I was wondering if you can help me by answering a simple question."

She turned silent for a brief moment, and then reluctantly nodded.

"Well," he went on, sitting down on the chair, "as a Transfiguration teacher, I presume that you have a lot of experience…"

"Main point, Potter," she interrupted impatiently.

"Um…" he started uneasily, "what I'm trying to say is…what are Heliopaths really like? I mean…the original forms of them?"

She threw an exasperated look at him, and took off her eyeglasses.

"Potter," she began sternly, "I'm afraid that I'll have to ask you to go back to your seat. As long as this is irrelevant to my class, you might as well as be quiet and resume reading. You might be a teacher, Potter, but still, that doesn't give you the right to nose into somewhat top-secret business."

_That was harsh_, thought Harry. Why in the world would she treat him like that, and refuse to reveal at least a smattering of information? As he coasted back to his seat, Ron and Hermione stopped reading again, shot him depressed, pathos looks, and then their eyes were fixed once again on the small text of their books.

It was only minutes to the end of the lesson, when a sudden knock was heard.

"Come in," called Professor McGonagall, putting down her quill.

Harry saw the doorknob bend down, and instantly, the door sprang open. Into the class came an unexpected visitor.

"Professor Dumbledore," murmured McGonagall, standing up to pay some respect.

"Relax, Minerva," instructed the old man amicably, polishing his half-moon spectacles with the hem of his robes, "I only came here hopeful that you might allow me to borrow a few of your young pupils."

The whole class was utterly distracted, but intrigued at the same time.

"Of course," she responded, a small grin showing on her sullen face.

"Very well then," continued the Headmaster, his grey beard reflecting some light, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger will please follow me, and many thanks to you, Professor McGonagall."

The three were perplexed when he called out their name as if he had already rehearsed it. At once, they packed up, receiving some vague stares from the Ravenclaws, and left their seats. It was ten minutes early to leave the classroom, as Hermione would've most likely thought.

They followed the Headmaster out of the room, into a couple of corridors, and down some staircases. Evidently, Dumbledore wasn't leading them to his office, but instead, to the grounds.

"What do you think he wants from us?" whispered Hermione softly, so that Dumbledore wouldn't hear her.

"Dunno," came Ron's automatic reply, "but I reckon it's going to be something wicked!"

Harry didn't speak for a while.

The grounds were covered with wet green grass, cool enough for refreshments. Following Dumbledore's foot prints, they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, which was located at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. Without knocking, the old man pushed the door open, and led them inside. Fang was reclining on an old torn cushion, growling softly. The many shelves that surrounded the place were occupied with teacups and pieces of china.

"Tea?" offered Dumbledore, holding a tea kettle.

"Thanks," they all replied at once.

Shortly before he was done pouring them tea, they saw the silhouette of a half-giant step in from the backdoor.

"Hullo Professor Dumbledore!" grunted Hagrid excitedly. "An' what are yeh three doin' out o' class?"

"Actually, I brought them, Hagrid," explained Dumbledore, beaming.

"Oh," he grunted, "um…"

"I will inform them momentarily," continued the Headmaster, winking at the three.

Ron was absolutely perplexed. He frequently raised his eyebrows as he took quick sips out of this tea.

"The mirror, if you would please, Hagrid," spoke Dumbledore emphatically.

As Harry, Ron, and Hermione silently were watching, Hagrid opened an old dusty cupboard having some cobwebs on the handles (which Ron loathed). When his huge hairy hands were visible to their eyes again, they noticed that he was carrying a mirror with two sides. It could've been turned up and down easily.

A memory struck Harry's mind at that instant. Only months before Sirius had died, he had given Harry a two-way mirror. In his schooldays, Sirius had utilized it to communicate with Harry's father whenever they were placed in separate detentions. It wasn't much like the oval shaped mirror Hagrid was holding. Shortly, the memory faded away.

They saw Dumbledore carefully position his finger tips on the hinges and seize the mirror. Gently, he put it on the table on which the teacups and kettle were already set.

"Professor," began Hermione curiously, "might I ask…what is this?"

"Impatient as always, Miss Granger?" questioned the old man, grinning.

She slightly went pink. Harry and Ron were listening.

"Before I show you the truth about this mirror, I must make a commonly noticed comment," gossiped Dumbledore earnestly.

Under the pretence of understanding, the three nodded.

"Now," continued Dumbledore, "you three are stunningly spectacular friends. You've shown valour, friendship, care, and a bit of sacrifice over the past few years…"

He was cut off by a silent laugh from Hagrid, who was petting what seemed like an ill Fang.

"I must admit that you have rather made such an impression on all of us," he went on, calmly, "but I must point out…you have an act for getting into trouble."

That last sentence sounded a bit more like Snape's way of speech.

"Although you've had the nerves to save souls and fight cunning Death Eaters," he said, "there are some things that you have to leave for adults. And look…you are nearly adults yourselves."

Not much influence was made.

"I… don't understand, Professor," said Ron, feeling somehow lost.

"I do not blame you, Mr. Weasley," responded Dumbledore sympathetically, "let me put it this way for you…stop risking your lives in order to demolish evil, while you are still young in years."

That reminded Harry of Professor Lupin's response. What? Did saving lives and ending fears make him infamous? Or perhaps irresponsible?

"But sir," spoke Harry, putting down his mug of tea, "Voldemort's on the loose and his servants are swarming all around Britain…we've been frequently attacked this year… you don't expect us to do nothing, do you, now?"

Hermione nudged him in the ribs, as if what he had just said was offensive.

"No, Harry," agreed the old man, "I do not expect you to do nothing. However, despite the fact that you did things that other elders wouldn't have had sufficient courage to do, I should warn you. This war is coming to an end…it might be Lord Voldemort's end, or perhaps…yours, Harry."

At once, Harry heard the sound of another memory coming closer. Last year, before end of term, the Headmaster had revealed a secret to Harry. It was the content of the prophecy made about him and Voldemort nearly seventeen years ago, by Sybill Trelawney…the prophecy that held both of their fates.

Ron and Hermione had indeed known that the prophecy was smashed in the Department of Mysteries. Nevertheless, they have never actually had a clue of what was in it.

"I think it is time," talked Dumbledore, his eyes fixed on Ron and Hermione, "to unveil something that's been buried well…until a year ago."

Dazed, the pair of them listened to the old man. Within a short amount of time, they learned all about the prophecy. They now knew how Neville could've been the one chosen to be marked as the Dark Lord's equal. They learned how Voldemort chose the half-blood like himself, instead of the pureblood. They learned how one of the two couldn't survive while the other existed in life.

When the Headmaster was done talking, Ron and Hermione glanced at Harry, transfixed. True, he hadn't told them about it, fearful of violent or appalling reactions.

"I recognize that this could inevitably be overwhelming," spoke the old man again, "but in anyway, it is the ultimate truth."

Hagrid was slightly weeping, his eyes semi-full of tears.

"This is Harry's destiny," explained Dumbledore slowly, "he has to face what he was destined to confront…along the way, he might've needed, and still needs a bit of comfort…which depends on you two."

They seemed nearly flattered. At least, they were glad to be Harry's best friends.

"Now, back to the mirror," said the Headmaster, lifting the two-faced mirror to the level of their eyes, "what do you see?"

The question was imminent. But all they could see was their own reflections.

"Nothing," they all replied dully.

"Look deeper," instructed the Headmaster, spinning the mirror. A blur of a dozen figures was being shown.

"I couldn't exactly tell," said Hermione uncertainly.

Harry took one more moment to discern the things divulged from the mirror's surface. Then, he got the point.

"Chaos," he muttered.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, "you see, if you meddle with the time hat is given to you, chaos occurs. Disorder. This mirror is designed to exhibit a glimpse of what your future might look like if you decide to risk all chances…"

Again, he was interrupted by a grunt from Hagrid.

"I kept this mirror with a trusted friend," spoke Dumbledore, indirectly meaning Hagrid, 'it was the only safe place I could keep it."

Harry's eyes widened as if he just realized a fact. Hermione, however, was quicker to speak it.

"So this is it, Headmaster," she mouthed matter-of-factly, "this is the way you've been foreseeing the future….everything about it."

He grinned, and then said, "Correct, once again, Hermione. This is how."

Oddly, Harry didn't sense fury within him.

"But, Professor Dumbledore," swallowed Ron heavily, "if you have been seeing all that happened for years….why haven't you done something to change it?"

"Good point, Ronald," he declared, "I was just coming to that."

Harry awaited a sensible, reasonable answer.

"You see," continued the old man, raising his half-moon spectacles, "man has the ability to act in away that would save his and others' necks. Yet, man doesn't realize that he was destined to live this way. I, myself, could've avoided all the disappearances, troubles, deaths, ambushes, murders…all these years, but never did. Why? Because I wouldn't. Simply, you won't understand how complex it gets. My dears, thing were meant to be this way."

"But you could've done something!" protested Harry hotly. "If you had, Cedric would've still been living…Sirius would be alive, too…Bertha Jorkins would've still been here!"

"Harry," responded Dumbledore, in a sentimental way, "over and over…I've told you that I understand the way you feel, yet there's nothing that I can do."

Ron and Hermione both patted Harry on his shoulders, calming him down. Still, it didn't make him mollified. Why? Why did all of this have to happen if and old man could've prevented it from doing so?

"Now that I have shown you the truth," spoke Dumbledore, gradually standing up, "it's about time I end my afternoon break and head back to the Ministry."

There was nothing purposeful in his way of speaking. All of it was theoretical and explanatory…but Harry was against it. Indeed, things were mean to be this way.

"Oh, and thanks for the tea, Hagrid," spoke Dumbledore, half a second before walking out of the door.

"Me pleasure, Professor!" grunted Hagrid gleefully, shutting the door open.

"Can you believe this, Hagrid?" questioned Harry, a sarcastic smile noted on his face. "Is this just utter insanity or what!"

Hagrid slowly sat down on a chair, and looked Harry in the eye.

"Harry," grunted Hagrid sympathetically, "Dumbledore's a great man. He might've done unexplainable things, but trust me, they're for ever'one's good. Ya might not understand it now, Harry, but mark me words, soon yeh will."

"I just don't get why he never did something," groaned Harry sadly, "'things were meant to be this way'."

He imitated the Headmaster's words.

"Yeh'll be allright sooner or late, Harry," growled Hagrid sentimentally, "jest do as Dumbledore commands, an' ya'll be fine. An' mind you two stick close to him…he could use a bit o' company."

Ron and Hermione nodded fervently.

"Come on, Harry," said Hermione quietly, dragging him softly from the sleeve. Ron was silent.

"Well," murmured Hagrid, "see ya 'round, Harry."

"Yeah…bye," he responded faintly, and headed to the door.

As the three stepped down the stone steps, Harry remembered something urgent.

"Just a second," requested Harry, leaving his friends waiting outside the threshold.

"Hagrid?"

The old half-giant was carefully positioned the mirror that Dumbledore displayed back in the dusty cupboard.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Look," he started solemnly, "I've tried this with Dumbledore and McGonagall, but it didn't work…so I came to you…since you're the Care of Magical Creatures teacher…"

"What are ya trying to say, Harry?"

"I was hopeful that you could help me," he explained vaguely.

Hagrid didn't talk; he waited for more.

"Well…I was wondering if you could tell me about the nature of Heliopaths…and their original from," gossiped Harry hastily, half expecting Hagrid to remain calm.

"Oh," grunted Hagrid, glad that it was something about monstrous creatures, "Heliopaths are usually considered nocturnal."

Harry thought of that statement as ironic. The Heliopaths that had attacked the castle showed up during day time.

"They're also fire eaters…fire provides a great source o' energy for 'em, Heliopaths…what else? Oh yeah, they've got sharp spikes on their wings which can cause really serious damage if one stings ya on the back…ya'll be in the Hospital Wing fer ages…"

_How barbaric_, thought Harry.

"But their original forms? I'm not sure I know exactly what yeh're talking 'bout, Harry," grunted Hagrid earnestly.

There was some tone of hesitation in Professor McGonagall's voice as there was in Hagrid's.

"Thanks," muttered Harry after long silence, knowing that convincing Hagrid to tell the truth about the original forms won't do any good.

"What did you say?" enquired Ron as soon as Harry's feet made contact with the outside ground.

"I tried to get some information out of him," admitted Harry, still feeling that it wasn't enough, "it worked…for a while."

"Information about what?" asked Hermione, as she followed Harry's long strides.

"The Heliopaths' original form," explained Harry, nearly tripping over a jagged rock, "but he didn't' tell me a single thing about it…said that he didn't know what I was talking about."

"Maybe he was right," suggested Ron.

"No!" protested Harry angrily. "Can't you grasp it? They're all hiding reality from me! They're all acting stupidly under Dumbledore's orders!"

"Harry…"

"He keeps on lying or hiding secrets away from me! He doesn't realize that I need to know…I WAS MARKED AS THE DARK LORD'S EQUAL, FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

His voice was more like a thousand times magnified, spreading across the grounds.

"Keep your voice down," spoke Hermione commandingly, trying to mollify the indignant boy.

"Harry, mate," whispered Ron, "forget about that ruddy prophecy…it could be fake, you know."

"FAKE?" he shouted. "YOU SAY THE PROPHECY'S FAKE?"

Hermione shot Ron a scolding look, nevertheless, understanding that he purposed to calm down Harry.

"You know what," said Harry quietly, "I'll see you guys at dinner."

And by that, he angrily left the two, marching off to his next lesson, Defence Against the Dark Arts.


End file.
